Revenge
by animexchick
Summary: Somebody from the 'inseparables' past comes back to get his revenge, with his sights set on two musketeers in particular. (I really dont know what to write as a summary but please read anyway)
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

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Chapter One:

Aramis wasn't worried, nope… not at all. The fact that two of the three men who he would gladly die for were a day late from escorting the Lady Helena and her body guard back to her estate out of the city did not bother the sharpshooter at all. He certainly didn't keep checking the garrison's gate for any sign of them… No he definitely wasn't doing that...

"They're fine Aramis" came a voice to his side, startling the marksman and earning an amused eyebrow raise from his new companion.

"They're only a day late" the man continued, trying to calm the clearly anxious Spaniard beside him "There could be a dozen reasons for the delay. None of which are serious, life-threatening or warrant us riding out in the dark."

"I'm not worried Athos" Aramis replied, though if the look the older man gave him was anything to go by, he was not believed.

"Lady Helena has, on multiple occasions, spoken of her respect for the regiment, she most likely asked them to dine with her or offered them a bed for the night." Athos continued, he knew that Aramis, like himself and their brothers, had a tendency to worry when they were separated for missions. Aramis was just the most obvious with his concerns, well the most next to D'Artangan – the lad was young and lacked experience in hiding his emotions, especially from his brothers.

Athos might be starting to worry a little as well but he'd never let Aramis know that. As he said any number of things could delay a mission and being a day late wasn't unheard of. "They did not go alone remember" Athos started again, seeing Aramis's gaze once again travel to the entrance of the garrison. "Laurent and Gerard were assigned to go with them"

"Yes, yes I know that…" Aramis waved away the older musketeers attempt to placate his anxiety and worry.

"But?" Athos asked, mentally groaning when he realized he was going to have to force his friend to admit what exactly was troubling him before he could talk some sense into him.

"But?" Aramis questioned, sounding all too innocent. A stern look from his friend had him squashing all attempts at acting nonchalant at the situation _I can never get anything passed you can I old friend? _he thought – giving his friend a fond look before actually answering the question, finding himself unable to stop himself after he spoke the first word.

"**But** they are not us Athos! What if they're delayed because of an injury? D'Artangan has little medical experience, beyond stitching small wounds and taking care of minor injuries. Porthos can't sow a wound properly for all the gold in the France! Laurent and Gerard are newly commissioned – I have no idea what medical experience they do or do not have." Aramis took a breath, trying, and failing to calm himself and continued ranting before Athos could get a word in "They could have run into trouble on the road Athos! Heaven knows D'Artangan could find a way to attract trouble if he was alone in a locked room-" Athos smirked slightly at this knowing it was probably true, the lad had an almost unnatural aptitude for finding trouble. "- He's only recently recovered from the beating he took during our last mission together and he and Porthos are both stubborn enough to ignore any wounds until they keel over!"

"Done?" Athos asked slightly amused, now smirking at the panting Spaniard in front of him who had ranted all that in one seemingly endless breath. Receiving a glare with no underlying heat to it and a nod from his long-time friend Athos spoke again.

"Right then, tonight we rest-" ignoring the look Aramis gave him he continued "– we've only just returned from a mission of our own if you care to remember the reason we couldn't be with them in the first place. Then if there is still no news by midday tomorrow we'll set out after them. Agreed?"

Aramis stopped himself from flat out demanding that they left that instant when he recognized the tone of his voice – Athos was worried as well, he was just hiding it better. That and he had more sense than Aramis he realized, as evening was truly setting it and two men riding alone in the dark was just asking for trouble, he would be no help to his friends then or if he was too exhausted to keep his eyes open. With a resigned sigh Aramis looked his friend in the eye "Agreed."

Nodding, thankful Aramis had agreed to see reason, "Yours or mine?" he enquired knowing instinctively that Aramis would need the reassurance and comfort of being around brothers tonight.

Understanding what Athos was doing straight away he sent his friend a fond smile full of his gratitude for not leaving him alone with just his thoughts tonight, before his smile turned to a cheeky smirk "yours I think mon ami, you can afford much better wine than I can after all" the marksman laughed and quickly ducked to avoid the swat Athos had aimed at his head for that comment before heading to his friend's apartments, but not before sending one final glance to the garrison's gates.

Neither man saw the amused head shake from their captain who had witnessed the whole thing from the balcony outside his office, having been distracted from his work by Aramis's rant. He strongly suspected that the sharpshooter had an inkling that Athos had already decided to ride out after their absent brothers as soon as he heard of their lateness when he asked after them after he had given Treville their mission report. He also wouldn't put it past the man to have figured out that Athos had already asked for and received the go ahead to follow them if no news had reached the garrison by noon the following day. Those men would follow each other to hell and back if the situation required it.

With one final smile at his retreating men, who were now, it appeared, arguing over exactly how much of Athos's wine Aramis was allowed to drink, Treville returned to his office – praying that the morning would bring good news of his absent men.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

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Chapter 2:

Morning saw a slightly disheveled Aramis sitting, once again at the table that, by some unspoken agreement between those in the garrison, belonged to him and his friends, staring at the garrison gates.

Athos's attempts at reassurance the night before had all but flown out the window when he woke up this morning to no new news. The guards on night duty hadn't seen them arrive back and Treville – once he reprimanded the sharpshooter for barging into his office without knocking – had stated that he had received no further news once the two musketeers had left the garrison the night before.

"Eat Aramis" came a command from his side

"I'm not hungry" the Spaniard replied, not removing his gaze from the gate, as if by sheer force of will he could make his friends appear safe, sound and laughing at him for being such a 'mother hen'.

"If we are to ride out in a matter of hours, you will need to be at full strength. Now eat." Sighed Athos, before sitting opposite his friend. He knew the worry that was consistently growing on his friend. As the self-appointed medic of the group Aramis didn't do well when he was separated from those he deemed his responsibility to protect – no matter how many times they left and came back in one piece. He knew that, despite not being responsible, the sharpshooter still felt guilt over Savoy – over five years ago now – he knew that being surrounded by twenty dead comrades for two days and being unable to do anything to help them had made Aramis extremely protective of his friends – his mind returning to those two days surrounded by dead friends whenever they were late returning from a mission. He sighed, repositioning his cloak over his shoulders – this was possibly the worse time for Aramis to have friends missing, with winter fast approaching and the air becoming colder day by day his mind was even more susceptible to the onslaught of old memories.

He was broken out of his thoughts by a grumbling Aramis, apparently not happy with his order to eat. He noted however that the marksman was beginning to eat. Smirking at his friend Athos turned to his own breakfast.

* * *

Treville sat at his desk, desperately trying to force himself not to go and tell Athos to ride out after their missing musketeers now instead of later.

Reminding himself that two of his best men were amongst the missing was supposed to bring him comfort but instead only raised his worry. Treville cared for all his men, this was well known but it was also not a secret that the captain had a special soft spot for those four men.

He would say he only worried more for them, as the men seemed to attract trouble like moths to flames. That he could send a group of men down a particular road one day and they'd find no trouble, but send those four down the same road a day later and they'd be ambushed by bandits or highwaymen. The men themselves seemed not to notice the captains extra concern for them, or if they did they certainly didn't mention it.

Choosing not to dwell on his growing fears he decided to focus on the skills of those missing, trying once again to reassure himself that they were fine.

Porthos: he was built like a bear and had the strength to match. The man was unrivaled within the garrison for his skills at hand to hand combat – he would not, could not, be taken down easily and although not his specialty he was skilled with both firearms and swords. He also had a mind for strategy, though was not required to use it much due to Athos's steady presence with them on missions and with him being delegated to the muscle of the operation – not that the man minded, he was fond of being able to take down his enemies with just his fists.

D'Artangan: he was hotheaded and impulsive but seemed to be able to rein it in when his brothers' needs demanded it. The lad had only been part of the group for just under a year but had managed to worm his way into the hearts of the most impenetrable group of men the garrison had ever seen. His natural ability with a sword had been impressive and was rapidly growing to match that of the boy's mentor Athos. His shooting and hand-to-hand still needed work to match those in his group but could easily match most of the rest of the musketeers. The lad had also some medical knowledge, nowhere near that of Aramis, but enough to serve him and his brothers well in most situations, providing the wounds were not life threatening.

Laurent and Gerard were promising but newly commissioned and this would be one of their first missions out of Paris, hence the presence of the other two men on this particular mission that would usually only require the appearance of two musketeers. They had gone through training together and made a capable team, when they didn't get cocky over their abilities.

Treville was shaken from his mental assessment of his missing men by the sound of hooves thundering into the garrison. He steeled his expression, determined to find out the cause for the delay and reprimand those responsible if necessary before allowing himself to feel relieved.

* * *

That plan was short lived however as the sight that greeted him when he opened his door was not the healthy return of four of his men but the return of two – both on one horse with one apparently wounded if the slouched posture in the saddle was any indication.

"LAURENT!" Treville bellowed at the musketeer as he descended the stairs to the garrison courtyard – causing the man to jump slightly before straightening himself in the saddle from where he had begun to slouch, his energy seeming to leave him now him and his wounded friend were back at the safety of the garrison. "Captain" the man spoke, exhausting evident in his tone, nodding to his commanding officer.

"What the hell happened!?" the captain growled out. He did not take well to his men being injured on what should be simple missions and he was presently trying to ignore the company of two musketeers in particular, off to his side, who looked ready to pounce on the only conscious man who could tell them what happened to their missing brothers.

"They… They came out of nowhere captain" the exhausted musketeer started. Explaining to his commanding officer how himself and Gerard had been attacked the night before by a small group of armed, and skilled men. Gerard had been injured but they had managed to take out their attackers and find shelter for the night. Only for Laurent to be forced to risk the ride to the garrison the following morning when Gerard's health had begun to deteriorate and the man developed the beginnings of a fever.

"What of Porthos? And D'Artangan? Where are they?" spoke Aramis, no longer bothering or able to keep the concern and fear from his voice.

"They aren't back yet?" replied an extremely surprised Laurent "B…But they had the quicker road" he stammered out, fear and guilt warring within him before he came to a realization and swearing, bringing full attention back to him "Shit! That means Porthos was right. We should never have had agreed to that plan! Shit!"

"Right about what" Athos asked. His steel like tone forcing the guilt ridden and slightly panicking man to focus again.

"Shortly after we left Lady Helena's estate D'Artangan mentioned that he thought we were being followed." Laurent paused to reposition himself in the chair where he was sitting in Treville's office – himself, the captain, Athos and Aramis had retreated to the captain's office before the young musketeer had begun explaining what had happened to Porthos and D'Artangan. As Treville realized that his men would need privacy to either plan or mourn – depending on what was said. "We thought he was just being paranoid until Porthos agreed with him. He said he noticed that they'd been on our tail for at least an hour before D'Artangan spoke up. He figured that as they hadn't been spotted or attacked when we had Lady Helena with us that they were either; innocent travellers or after musketeers" he finished going quiet at the end.

"And you STILL separated!?" roared Aramis, fury at the man in front of him for abandoning his friends overriding all fear and sane thinking the medic possessed.

"He ordered us to!" Laurent tried defending himself; he needed the musketeer to know that it hadn't been his idea to leave. Porthos was the leader of the mission, it was his duty to follow his orders, whether he liked them or not.

"Explain" Athos ordered whilst placing a reassuring hand on Aramis's shoulder.

"Porthos thought that separating would determine once and for all if the group were friend or foe. If they split up to follow both groups they were clearly enemies and would also be easier to take in fewer numbers-" Both the captain and Athos nodded at this, the plan made sense and was less risky then waiting for the large group to attack or not. "- We were already on one of the back roads into Paris and Porthos said him and D'Artangan would continue along this road whilst we headed for the main road. We thought we were all right for a while. Didn't notice anyone following us, nothing appeared out of the ordinary until they attacked – you know the rest already."

"Laurent I want you to show us exactly where you last saw D'Artangan and Porthos before heading to the infirmary to get those ribs seen to – I can tell they're bothering you." Treville ordered the young man before turning to what remained of his top four men "I want you two riding out within the hour, Aramis head to the infirmary and gather what supplies you need. We all know only injury or capture would detain both Porthos and D'Artangan in this situation. Unfortunately I can only send the two of you for this as the King has requested a number of musketeers be present for an event this afternoon and I cant leave the garrison short of too many men. You are authorized to do what ever is necessary to bring them back."

Nodding to the captain Aramis left quickly to go and gather supplies from the infirmary to add to his personal stash and to tack up the horses so they were ready to leave as soon as possible. _This is why we need to stick together, we separate and stuff like this happens _he thought to himself – ignoring the fact that they tended to find more trouble when they travelled together than when they were separated.

Athos left Treville's office shortly after, having received directions to their missing brothers last known location. Cursing himself for not acting on the bad feeling that had been growing in his gut since he found out they were a day late the night before he set off to his quarters at the garrison to pack his saddle bags before heading out to meet Aramis at the stables. He had to force himself not to give into panic when he thought back to how cold it had been the night before – fearing that his brothers had been injured and unable to find shelter. Cold could kill a man just as soon as any wound. _Please be safe __– __just hold on we're coming _he found himself thinking as he and Aramis mounted their horses and raced out of the garrison.


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N: Just wanted to say thank you soo much to all those for followed/Favorited the story. I have the next few chapters ready (i think) am and just doing the final tweaks on them so they should be up soon. Hope you all enjoy and thanks again. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

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Chapter 3:

**Several Days Ago **

"Porthos! D'Artangan! My office! Now!" Ordered Treville, startling the two men in question who had been working on D'Artangan's hand-to-hand skills, well that is what they had started out doing at least, however it had quickly deteriorated into what easily resembled a childish wrestling match with both men employing whatever means possible to gain advantage over the other – no matter how dirty the tactic. _This… _Treville mused to himself as he watched Porthos – who at this point had D'Artangan slung over his shoulder, much to the younger mans chagrin, dumped the Gascon into a pile of hay, laughing at the expression on his brothers face before helping him up and turning to head up to Treville's office _…is why these men shouldn't be separated __– __they turn into children as soon as Athos isn't there to glare at them._

"You think we're in trouble?" D'Artangan asked Porthos quietly, the young Gascon hadn't been an official musketeer long and if he was being honest Treville still scared him most of the time. He knew that it was the mans job to be commanding and imposing but that didn't mean it made D'Artangan any less intimidated by the man.

" 'Aven't done 'nything lately for him to yell at" Porthos answered hesitantly, scratching his beard.

"Not even after the other night in the tavern?" D'Artangan asked cheekily, sending a smirk to his friend.

"Shut up whelp!" Porthos replied, cuffing the younger man round the head fondly "we don't need to be mentioning that"

"Mentioning what?" Treville asked as his men came to stand in front of his desk with a look that could only be described as longsuffering amusement – he knew his men had done something, but seeing as how no report was made to him he wasn't going to push it, besides they had more important things to discuss.

"You needed us for something Captain?" D'Artangan enquired, hoping to turn the conversation away from him and his brother's antics the other night.

"Yes I have a mission for you." Treville stated whilst trying not to laugh at the eagerness that now filled his two men – honestly you'd think they'd been sitting around without a mission for months rather than a few days. Shaking his head fondly he continued "Lady Helena and her guard are returning to her estate outside the city this afternoon and the king has ordered the musketeers to provide an escort. Laurent and Gerard have asked for the job, however I am loathed to send them out on their own so soon after receiving their commissions. It will be their first mission out of Paris and Lady Helena is a dear friend of the Queen so I will be sending you two as well. You are to meet Lady Helena at the palace in two hours so I suggest you go get ready. Porthos you are in charge. Dismissed"

* * *

Arriving at the palace several hours later with both Laurent and Gerard the group met up with their charge and her personal guard.

"Monsieur Porthos! How lovely to see you again. Are you accompanying us on our journey?" Lady Helena asked, smiling brightly at the musketeer.

"It is good to see you as well Madame. And yes myself D'Artangan here as well as musketeers Laurent and Gerard will be escorting you home" Porthos answered politely, surprising D'Artangan a little, before bowing slightly to the woman.

"That's great news" she exclaimed happily "My escorts on the way here were so dreadfully stiff and couldn't hold a candle to your stories. I do hope you will indulge me with more tales of your adventures again whilst we travel?" Porthos's thunderous laugh was all the answer the young woman needed "Of course my lady" nodding to his men they began their journey out of the city "have I told you the one where…"

Their journey was slow going what with the addition of the carriage that Lady Helena was travelling in, however the captain had given the group plenty of time to allow for both the slow pace of the carriage and Lady's fondness for tales of musketeers adventures. Treville knew as soon as he decided to have Porthos in the escort he would have to allow for another day. The large musketeer had enthralled Lady Helena as soon as she heard how he had clawed his way up from the court of miracles. The woman already had a deep respect for his regiment and so was always willing to open her home up to any travelling musketeers in need of shelter or food, however when it came to Porthos she often insisted him and his group stay the night or for a meal, often delaying their return when they had accompanied her to her home.

As it was the group found themselves travelling along an empty road with Laurent and Gerard in front, Porthos next to the carriage – well in the middle of a story D'Artangan, who was heading up the rear, had heard several times before.

As they began to draw close to Lady Helena's estate Porthos returned to 'leader-mode' ordering them all to keep a close watch, they had avoided trouble so far but it wouldn't do them any good to relax now and have the Lady attacked just miles from the safety of her home.

They managed to reach Lady Helena's estate without any trouble and as expected were invited to dine with the lady of the house and her husband who had returned from a business trip earlier that day and to spend the night as it was already early evening when they arrived. Knowing Helena would not take no for an answer and never being one to turn down free food, especially when it was cooked by Lady Helena's chef – honestly the man was blessed, the small group of musketeers agreed to the meal before heading to the rooms Lady Helena had her staff prepare earlier to retire for the night, ready to set off again the following morning.

* * *

They had been travelling for just shy of two hours before D'Artangan spoke up

"I think we're being followed" he said carefully, just loud enough to be heard by the men he travelled with – not wanting to alert their followers if he was correct in his suspicions.

"Okay now you're just being paranoid," Gerard, replied looking around discreetly "I don't see anything"

"Me either D'Artangan. You sure you're not seeing things?" Laurent jokingly replied.

"Nah the whelps right" Porthos interceded, bringing the focus of all three men to him and receiving a small smile from D'Artangan – who despite the potentially dangerous situation, was proud he had been able to spot them. "Been on our tail for an hour or so I reckon" Porthos finished.

"Hostile?" Gerard asked his hand slowly reaching for the pommel of his sword.

"Too far away to tell. Could be simple travellers – would explain why they didn't bother us when we were with Lady Helena" D'Artangan answered – subtly scanning the countryside again.

"What's the plan then?" Laurent asked, nerves becoming evident in his voice. The newly commissioned musketeer had heard the edge to their group leaders voice when he had been relaying the information to them, and if he was on edge it meant the possibility of attack was high.

"Right he'es what we do" Porthos started bring full focus onto him. "Bout twenty minutes down this road there's a path that leads back to the main road into Paris." Receiving nods from his companions at this he continued, "Laurent and Gerard you'll take that path - " Porthos put up his hand, stilling Gerard from replying "- Me 'nd D'Art will continue on this road. If they split up to follow both groups we know they're hostile and can prepare for attack. If they don't then we know they're simple travellers and we meet up at the garrison."

"We don't know numbers or if they're hostile and you want to split up?!" questioned Laurent.

"I don't **want **to but it's the fastest way to find out and each group will be able to handle an attack easier if we can divert their forces" Porthos growled out, silencing all protest from the two musketeers.


	4. Chapter 4

**I received several reviews for the last few chapters - all positive which really made me smile. Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who reviewed/followed/favourited this story.**

**Anyways here's the next chapter I hope you like it :D **

**xxx**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

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Chapter 4:

It didn't take long for Porthos and D'Artangan to realize that the group following them had indeed split up to follow the two groups of musketeers when they had separated at the crossroads.

Unfortunately only a few of the group had been sent to track Laurent and Gerard – whilst this was a relief for Porthos as it meant that the likelihood of the two newbies surviving the attack had increased, it also made him nervous. D'Artangan and himself **could** take a group of this size, providing the men lacked both teamwork and any abundance of skill. Porthos found himself wishing for his two other brothers right about now. Athos's steadfast presence always calmed him right before a fight and he wouldn't be worrying if he had made the right decision separating as it would have been the elder musketeers choice. Aramis's overly optimistic nature would be making light of the situation, introducing much need levity to the coming battle. Porthos also knew that even if the men were unskilled neither him or D'Artangan would be walking away completely unscathed, even more reason to miss his exuberant Spanish friend.

D'Artangan rode beside his friend in silence – understanding the older mans need to sort through things in his mind though he couldn't help but be concerned at the worry and guilt that kept ghosting his friends features "You know you made the right choice right?" he asked quietly desperately wanting to reassure his beloved friend, Porthos was so wrapped up in his thoughts however that the sound of D'Artangan's voice startled the musketeer slightly, turning to his friend with a confused look D'Artangan continued "in separating I mean. Laurent and Gerard can handle their own, especially against the small group that followed them. Trust me I've seen them in training. They'll finish their group and probably get to the garrison before us, 'Mis and 'Thos will interrogate them something rotten before charging after us, only to find us toasting to our victory with the bottle of wine that Lady Helena gave you before we left." D'Artangan said brightly, secretly pleased when the image of Athos and Aramis interrogating the two new musketeers drew a smile from his brother.

Grunting in agreement Porthos turned to face his little brother, offering the lad a soft smile to convey his gratitude for dragging him out of his thoughts "Right then. They seem content to follow at the moment lets get a close to Paris as we can before they attack. Red Guards get too comfortable with the size of their purses when I'm gone too long" he said with so much seriousness it caused the young Gascon next to him to laugh – the boy no doubt remembering the incident in the tavern several nights previously in which Porthos humiliated several Red Guards spectacularly, which then of course led to a duel/bar fight which the musketeers won… Obviously.

They rode in silence for the most part of the day, their growing nerves about the impending attack silencing any thoughts of conversation either man had.

It was early evening before Porthos spoke up again, his voice startling the young Gascon from his thoughts. "I don't like this" the larger musketeer growled "the only way we reach Paris today is to ride in the dark, 'nd that's just like begging them to attack us"

D'Artangan nodded; it made perfect sense "then we find somewhere to make a stand."

* * *

They unfortunately didn't get far in that regard, as it was at that moment that their pursuers decided to make their move.

A shot rang out, followed almost immediately by a short gasp of pain "D'ARTANGAN!" Porthos bellowed, urging his horse nearer to his young – and now injured friend, drawing his sword from its sheathe – parrying a blow from one of the men who'd hoped to get in a blow whilst his attention was diverted. He spared his friend a quick concerned look, not wanting to take his eyes away from the fight.

"I'm good Porthos!" D'Artangan yelled his own attention taken from his friend as he used his pistol to shoot one of the men sneaking up on his brother before dismounting from his horse, kicking one of their attackers in the head as he went D'Artangan delved into the fight "Its just a graze!"

The men swarmed them like ants and Porthos found himself loosing track of D'Artangan. He felt a sickening feeling growing in his stomach when he realized that the men, whilst more than happy to hurt him, avoided any killing blows or from causing any life-threatening wounds. _Capture then _Porthos mused as he elbowed an attacker in the face, only slightly enjoying the sound of said man's nose breaking at the hit… only slightly.

It was a shout from D'Artangan that broke Porthos's focus. The larger man twisted his head round to the location of the shout, so quickly he was surprised he didn't injure himself, just in time to see D'Artangan roll down the hill having been tackled by a man easily Porthos's size.

His concern for his brother was all the distraction his attackers needed to deliver a strong blow to the musketeers temple, sending the man into oblivion the last words he heard being the group's leader shouting out and order to his men "Tie him up! And bring the boy!"

* * *

Opening his eyes seemed like such a monumental task for the elder musketeer and his head hurt like a bitch as well _Ergh why did I drink so much _Porthos thought to himself, before a sense of wrongness at that statement descended on him and he fought through the pain in his head to try and remember what happened… _Lady Helena… Followers… Separated… D'Artangan falling down the hill… Getting hit on the head… WAIT D'ARTANGAN! _

Forcing his eyes open once again in a desperate need to see his brother alive and well Porthos first noticed that dawn was breaking _Great as if we weren't late enough already_ he thought to himself _Aramis is gonna kill me for being late… Athos is gonna be pissed if D'Art's hurt and Treville's gonna have my hide for getting caught. _

A muffled groan from his side drew Porthos from his; frankly alarmingly calm thoughts on their situation. Turning to the source of the noise Porthos saw D'Artangan. Relief flooded through the musketeer before he could properly assess his brother. The lad looked bruised to hell, falling down that hill did the boy no favours. He also had several spots of blood over him, most appeared to be shallow – probably small nicks from their attackers blades. Although the blood pooling on his shoulder caused a growl to emanate from the elder musketeer "Graze my ass!" he mumbled – loud noises not agreeing with his head at present. He also noted, once he tried to reach for the boy that both of their hands were bound.

"The larger one's up!" came a voice, jolting his attention away from his wounded brother "Henri wake up the boy whilst I get the boss… He'll want them both awake for this" the grin the man sent his way was enough to turn his blood cold, even more so when the man named Henri decided the best way to wake up his youngest brother was to kick him in his already undoubtedly bruised, if not broken, ribs. The whimper of pain that escaped D'Artangan as the young Gascon shot up from the pain was more than enough for Porthos to start mentally planning all the creative and inventive ways he could and would kill Henri.

"P'thos" D'Artangan wheezed, trying to get the air back into his lungs after the brutal kick to his ribs

"I'm 'ere lad. Those men have us trussed up good 'nd proper. How you doing?" Porthos asked, the relief of seeing D'Artangan lucid and coherent, even if he was in pain, seeping into his tone.

" 'M fine P'thos just sore"

Any further comment either man wanted to make was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching.

Both musketeers lifted their heads, intent on showing no signs of pain to their enemies. Only for Porthos to blanch and swear under his breath at the sight of the man approaching them.

"Porthos Du Vallon" the man sneered, as if the name was an insult of the highest order "It's been a while… And look!" he exclaimed turning his attention to D'Artangan, his eyes roaming over the young Gascon – causing him to shift uncomfortably "you brought a puppy with you!"

"Leave the whelp be Corbin! He has nothing to do with this!" Porthos exclaimed, hoping to keep the desperate begging tone out of his voice. He knew what Corbin liked to do to the men he captured, he would spare D'Artangan from that if he could, even if it meant taking his place.

"Tut tut tut Porthos" tsked Corbin, his eyes still roaming over D'Artangan, before sending a profoundly evil grin towards the larger musketeer "he has **everything **to do with this"


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello again my lovelies :) **

**We're back with Athos and Aramis for this chapter, though we will be returning to the other two boys, who are currently in Corbin's company in the next chapter.**

**I hope you like it and as always thanks to all those who follow/favourite/review**

**xxx**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

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Chapter 5:

Arriving at what appeared to be the location of a great battle Aramis and Athos felt their blood go cold as they dismounted their horses in record speed to begin searching through the dead bodies for any sign of their friends.

"Aramis!" Athos called, gaining the medics attention as he made his way to his friend's side leading with him, two very familiar horses.

"That mare is all D'Art has left of his farm and Porthos is almost as fond of his as he is of a good card game" the medic stated, feeling a brand new wave of panic and worry descend on him "They never would have left them willingly"

"There's blood on the horn of D'Artangan's saddle" Athos spoke, worry, concern and guilt flooding through in his tone. The boy looked up to him as a mentor and he had looked at him as a second chance at having a younger brother – he'd failed again apparently

Sighing at the look on his brother's face Aramis pushed his own worry to the side and looked over to the blood Athos mentioned, "There's not much… might not even be the pup's"

Before Athos could react however a wheezy sound from what they had originally thought to be a dead body spoke first. Making both musketeers jump slightly – not that either man would ever admit to doing so.

"O…Of c…cou….course it's the…boy's" the man gasped before sending a bloody smile to the two musketeers "g…got 'im good… and…proper" he finished before weakly lifting a hand to pat his shoulder, unknowingly allowing both men to relax slightly – they had been fearing a stomach wound or something more fatal, a shoulder wound would hurt like hell but, provided it had been bandaged at least somewhat to stem the bleeding the boy **should **be okay.

"Why attack them?" Athos ground out, he was fast loosing his patience, two of his brothers missing and one or both were injured, as only threat of further harm to D'Artangan would allow for Porthos to be taken without a fight well without too much of a fight.

"Boss… ordered it" the man wheezed out, apparently having no lasting loyalty to the man after being left for dead with the rest of the fallen.

"And who is your boss?" Athos asked as he watched Aramis attempt to prolong the mans life, without using too many of their supplies – luckily D'Artangan had some basic supplies in his saddlebags which remained strapped to his horse, neither man particularly wanted the, well man seemed like too good a word for someone like him, snake in front of them to live, not after what he had done to their brother's but the man was fading fast and the longer they could keep him alive the more information they could gain.

Athos's question caused the man's head to rise to meet the musketeer's face and once again sending the man a bloody smile he said two words that turned the musketeers blood to ice "Corbin… Marshal"

Cursing under his breath Aramis looked to Athos, seeing the cold, hard look in his eyes the sharpshooter knew his friend was reliving the last time either of them had seen Corbin, he knew then that it was his turn to take over questioning – the elder musketeer needing a moment to get out of his head.

"What condition were the musketeers in before Corbin took them?" he asked, steeling himself for the worse news. Corbin was not a gentle or merciful man and his hatred for Porthos and themselves was legendary in the barracks. He also knew that the man would not risk an open attack on musketeers he hated so passionately just to kill them quickly.

"The boy" the man breathed out shaking Aramis from his thoughts "he … took a tum…tumble down the hill… bet the runt's ten…shades…of…blue by now" Aramis looked over at the hill at this information paling slightly at what he saw – the incline wasn't overly steep but was coved by loose dirt and stones, any of those got into the Gascon's shoulder wound and it was bound to get infected and that would be ignoring the sight of small boulders at the bottom of the hill, hitting one of those at speed would have definitely cracked, if not broken a few of the boy's ribs.

Before he could think anymore on their youngest condition the man had gathered up the strength to speak again "The…lar…larger one… he's…gonna be seeing double …for a while, what… with the way… Henri knocked…'im out"

Athos frowned at this, whilst he was glad his brother's hadn't been seriously hurt, the amount of injuries seemed remarkably light – especially as Corbin was involved. As if seeing the question in the elder musketeers mind the dying man spoke again "B…Boss didn't want them…too…broken be'ore he got to them" sending another bloody smile when both musketeers were unable to help themselves as they paled slightly at his words " 'sides…" he continued bring full attention back to himself "Corbin 'ad his eye… on the runt…cant do much…if…he's too damaged" he wheezed out.

It took every single ounce of Athos's self control not to attack the man bleeding to death on the floor for what he just insinuated his boss had in plan for his baby brother. Aramis however was not as controlled as the medic chose that moment to put pressure on the man's wound, exerting more pressure than was necessary, causing the man to whimper in pain. Allowing himself a moment to revel in that he turned to Athos – if he was being completely honest with himself he was impressed that the man hadn't lunged at the man at his comment. It was hardly a secret amongst the group that Athos had a soft spot for the young Gascon, the elder musketeer being much more overprotective of the lad whenever he managed to hurt himself – which thinking of it was A LOT. The elder musketeer had also cut down significantly on his drinking since the boy had arrived, undoubtedly knowing the boy looked up to him as his mentor. Knowing the boy was in serious trouble and not being there to help was almost certainly killing the man.

"Where. Are. They?" Athos growled out in such a dangerously feral tone it almost had Aramis sinking back in fear.

"Ruins…on…the…east…road" the man breathed out, clearly running out of time but determined to antagonize the musketeers further, he continued "I'd…hurry…if…I…were…you…you…don't…wanna…miss…the…show"

Athos had, had more than enough at this point and, after delivering an aggressive punch to the mans face – knocking him out, he turned to Aramis "I know the ruins. They're not far mount up and lets get our brothers out of there"


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello again my lovely readers :)**

**I woke up this morning to 4 new reviews to this story and all of them positive :D was a very nice way to start the day. SO to thank you all for your continued support of this story I have decided to upload 2 chapters today.**

**I hope you like them, we get to know a little bit more about Corbin and his plans in this chapter.**

**As always thank you for following/favouriting/reviewing **

**Enjoy xxx**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

* * *

Chapter 6:

**Several Hours Earlier**

_"__Tut tut tut Porthos" tsked Corbin, his eyes still roaming over D'Artangan, before sending a profoundly evil grin towards the larger musketeer "he has __**everything **__to do with this"_

Porthos cursed silently, Corbin was not a man to be messed with and the man hated him with a deadly passion and he had gone and gotten both himself and his wounded little brother caught by the man.

Had it been him alone who had been caught Porthos wouldn't have been so worried but he had learn't whilst investigating Corbin that he owed a lot of his wealth to his connections to a human trafficking ring. He kidnapped young, healthy, attractive and largely unwilling men and women and sold them to the highest bidder, never to be heard from again – save for the occasional body found.

The darker musketeer had seen the way Corbin's eyes had focused on D'Artangan, so much so that the boy had clearly been incredibly uncomfortable. Corbin was undoubtedly had a plan to sell the young Gascon after he had finished with them both. Even wounded the younger musketeer would still bring in a decent profit for him. There would be people who wouldn't be bothered by his injury – seeing as how he would undoubtedly gain many more whilst they 'broke him in.' that thought caused Porthos's blood to boil – he would not subject his young friend to that kind of life… Not whilst he still had breath in his body.

A pained grunt drew Porthos from his thoughts as he turned to his brother. D'Artangan had done his best not to make a sound but Corbin's man wasn't exactly gentle when tying a bandage around the wound in the Gascon's shoulder – though it was less bandage and more dirty rag. Lifting his head from his chest he sent Porthos, what he hoped was a reassuring smile, he could tell his friend had history with their kidnapper, and judging by his brother's reaction to the man, not the good kind.

D'Artangan could already feel the heat coming from his wound and knew that it was infected and he'd be damned if he let Porthos worry about that whilst a hostile group held them hostage. _How would a non-hostile group even manage to take us hostage? _His slightly fevered brain asked sarcastically.

Seeing that Porthos was still watching him, D'Artangan nodded, almost un-noticeably, to Corbin and then sent his brother a confused and questioning look.

Whether Corbin saw the look or not both men didn't know however his next statement allowed Porthos to answer D'Artangan's unasked question. "Well don't just sit there brooding Porthos, that was always your drunk friends' job. Why don't you tell the runt who I am"

"Corbin Marshal" the musketeer growled out, severely angered at both the derogatory statement about his brother and his and D'Artangan's situation. An emotion the larger musketeer was unsurprised to see mirrored on the younger mans face – though slightly diminished by the pain currently radiating through his body. "Ex-musketeer. Treville kicked 'im out when it was noticed 'is interrogation methods involved a lot more force than were needed… That and he has a 'side business' that caused the King to issue a warrant for his head if he ever steps foot in Paris again."

D'Artangan tilted his head at this, he was disgusted that the man in front of his was once a musketeer but whatever the man's 'side business' was apparently was worse than anything the man had done as a musketeer if Porthos's reaction was anything to go by.

"Lucky for me that we're not in Paris then eh?" Corbin asked brightly – causing the Gascon to feel even more uncomfortable around the man. "Tell the boy what I do Porthos… It's only fair he knows, after all he'll be experiencing it first hand soon enough."

"Touch 'im and I'll kill you!" Porthos roared, lunging at the man. However having his hands still bound meant his movements were a lot sloppier and easier to intercept, as the man who'd kicked D'Artangan awake, Henri, kicked his legs out from under him, followed by a sharp stomp to his lower back.

"Porthos!" D'Artangan cried when he saw his friend fall. He tried to reach the larger musketeer, only to be backhanded across the face by Corbin.

Kneeling before the wounded musketeer Corbin grinned a dark, evil smile "You see boy I'm a merchant or trader. Only my merchandise is people" the man's smile growing when he saw the young man in front of him pale at the implications of that sentence "Porthos is too old for me to get anything for him – even if it would give me no greater pleasure to do so. But you however, you I can get a solid amount for – even in your current state" he explained nonchalantly while holding the musketeers chin in his hand.

"I'd rather die!" D'Artangan spat, jerking his face from the man's hands.

"You really think you 'ave a choice runt?" Corbin laughed, before turning to his men "Is it ready?"

"Yes boss" one of his men replied impassively, this situation was nothing new to them apparently

"Get them up then!" Corbin ordered, before turning back to the two musketeers "My associates aren't expecting a new shipment for a few days yet so we'll have some fun in the meantime"


	7. Chapter 7

**Evening Again Faithful Readers**

**As promised here is the second chapter for today **

**Enjoy xxx**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

* * *

Chapter 7:

Athos and Aramis had been riding for several hours, the former man's mood souring as the ride continued, before Aramis pulled his horse to a stop when the ruins the dying man mentioned came into view.

"Aramis?" Athos questioned irritably "why have you stopped?"

"We need a plan Athos" Aramis answered, seemingly oblivious to his friend's sour mood "We have no idea how many men are hold up in there… or whether Porthos or D'Artangan are in any condition to fight" he continued choking up slightly near the end.

_We charge straight in and kill the bastards for what they have undoubtedly done to our brothers _is what Athos really wanted to say but the forced himself to calm and recognize the logic in his brothers words _Head over heart _he repeated in his mind, desperately trying to ignore the morose voice in his head that was reminding him that it was advice he had given D'Artangan multiple times and that, that same boy could be being subjected to the worst kinds of torture at that very moment or could even be dead.

Shaking himself from his voice he looked at Aramis who was giving him a knowing look. The men had been friends for long enough and the medic had seen the bond between the young Gascon ex-farmer and the former noble to know exactly where his thoughts had gone.

"How many shots can you get off?" Athos asked, gesturing to the array of firearms the sharpshooter had decided to bring with them

"Enough to do some serious damage, providing I have cover to reload" the medic replied with non of his usual aloofness – the seriousness of the situation was not lost him, their brothers were in danger and in pain, mirth and humor could wait until they were all safe back in Paris and far away from the monster that was Corbin Marshal.

"I passed though this way last month on a mission" Athos started, all previous thoughts were pushed from his mind. He was the one they turned to, to come up with the plans and he'd be damned if he failed them now. "The gate to the tower still works and can only be opened from the inside. Provided its not already locked it'll prevent Corbin's men from reaching you whilst you're reloading and give you a vantage point overlooking the whole ruins"

Nodding Aramis turned to his guns – getting them loaded with ammunition so nothing would delay him when they set the plan in motion "and you mon ami?"

"There is a gap in the wall on the left side, if I go through there I can hopefully stay undetected long enough to locate Porthos and D'Artangan. And if we're lucky maybe take out a few men before they notice me." Athos answered

Aramis frowned at this, the plan was risky especially as it was only the two of them and they were apparently going to be separated for most of the fight. The medic also did not like the fact that he would be up in the tower away from their ailing brothers _what if they need me _his mind whined before the Spaniard steeled himself. This was not the time to be whining, his brothers will undoubtedly need his medical skills but Athos will also need cover if he is to get to them. He can and will take out as many as he can as quickly as possible deciding that the sooner these men are dead the sooner he can tend to his wounded brothers. He had yet to speak to Athos about the fact that D'Artangan would almost positively be dealing with a fever due to his shoulder wound being infected, he sent up a silent prayer that the boy was strong enough to endure it and that the wound was not as deep as he feared before he could tend to it.

"You ready?" Athos asked, receiving a nod from his friend he steeled himself for what he was bout to see and do before he nodded to Aramis and the two brothers split up to put their rescue plan into action.

* * *

Aramis counted himself extremely lucky, he managed to reach the tower without incident and found it both unlocked and unmanned. Locking the gate he made his way to the top of the tower and begun to set up his weapons next to him so he could fire in quick succession before needing to reload.

He stilled he preparations suddenly when a scream tore through the air, scrambling to the edge of the tower the medic could make out both of his brothers in the crumbling remains of the courtyard, both men appeared conscious which was a great relief to the marksman, however he couldn't stop his growing panic and fury when another scream tore through the air. From his vantage point the sharpshooter couldn't make out exactly what was happening to their youngest but he knew the stubbornness of their Gascon would prevent the boy from voicing any sounds of pain under most circumstances – meaning for the boy to be screaming he must have either given up trying to keep silent as he had endured too much or it was simply too painful for him to contain. Neither option sat well with the medic as he readied his first weapon and as much as he wanted to aim it at Corbin's head, he knew that Athos would want that for himself in recompense for the damage done to his protégé and baby brother so the Spaniard turned his gun on to one of the men holding Porthos – the larger musketeer didn't have any obvious wounds that Aramis could tell from a distance so might be able to join the fight, or at least aid in protecting D'Artangan – who looked ready to pass out at any moment, if he was free from whatever binds the two men by him had on him.

The sharpshooter sent a prayer that Athos was ready because as soon as he pulled the trigger all hell was going to break loose. Taking a deep breath the musketeer fired.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello Again My Lovely Readers :D**

**Felt a little bit mean leaving you on cliff hanger the other day, but in my defense the 'rescue' bit is spread over 3 chapters including the one I published the other day and have to keep you guys interested some how lol :) **

**Anyways another 2 chapters today to hopefully make up for it.**

**Big BIG thank you to everyone who reviews/follows/favourites this story it always brings a smile to my face when see all the support you have given me :D **

**Enjoy**

**xxx**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

* * *

Chapter 8:

Athos couldn't help but feel his uncertainty at his plan grow the closer he got to the men holding his brothers captive. Whilst there were significantly less men present then he had originally suspected, there were still too many ways in which this could go horribly wrong and it would be his brothers who would suffer the most.

From his hiding spot Athos was able to spot the hunched over frame of the elder two missing brothers. Relief at finding the missing man instantly gave way to concern when he took stock of his friends' appearance. Someone had clearly been using his brother as a punching bag, the large musketeer was sporting at least one painful looking head wound, several deep bruises on his arms and was likely sporting many more under his clothing. Porthos's hands were also bound so tight in made Athos wince in sympathy – he sorely doubted that the musketeer had any feeling left in his hands.

He was so focused on Porthos's condition that Athos had neglected to fully observe the commotion surrounding the larger musketeer, so when a scream tore through the air accompanied by a sickening snap Athos almost jumped out of his skin.

The musketeer had to bite his cheek and grind his teeth to stop himself from prematurely charging at Corbin and his men when he noted that the scream had come from D'Artangan as Corbin broke the boys' ankle. The Gascon's condition was extremely concerning for the elder man as the boy was un-naturally pale and covered in bruises and small cuts – the boy's shoulder wound bleeding through the poor attempt at a bandage. But most concerning was the gleam of sweat evident covering the lads face – clearly his youngest brother was suffering from a fever, meaning his wounds were infected.

Sighing, Athos ran a hand though his hair _that boy simply can't do things in half measures __– __even when he gets sick he has to give it 100% _he mused fondly, before being distracted as he watched Porthos get a sharp punch to the gut when the larger musketeer fought against his bonds and growled at the treatment his brother was receiving.

The former Comte had never been overly religious but he found himself praying that Aramis was in position, he had spotted Corbin reaching for a bottle – its contents, though unknown to him caused his protégé to pale even further and squirm in his captures grasp. Even Porthos, having recovered from the earlier blow, began fighting again – shouting out curses and doing whatever he could in his position to bring Corbin's attention away from the fading Gascon.

His shouts and fight only resulting in another blow from the sneering man by his side and Athos was forced to watch as Corbin poured the contents of the bottle over D'Artangan's hand – the condition of which was unknown to the elder man as his view was obstructed by Porthos. The instant the liquid touched the boy's hand another gut-wrenching scream tore through the air.

_Screw it! _Athos thought to himself angrily, he could no longer wait for Aramis to get into position he had to get to his baby brother NOW! Luckily for him though the instant he decided to emerge from his hideaway a shot rang out, catching the man who had been beating Porthos. Smirking Athos charged.

* * *

Porthos didn't know how much more of this he could take – his own beatings paled in comparison to the treatment their youngest had been forced to endure. He had been forced to watch as Corbin had pulled the whelps fingernails away from their respective fingers, one by one as slowly as possible to prolong the boy's pain. To the younger mans credit he had not given any verbal indication of pain save for the occasional grunt – Porthos had to give it to the lad he was impressed. He knew the boy was incredibly stubborn when it came to admitting he was in pain but he also knew that most men would be screaming in agony. He had tried to stop Corbin – to fight against both his younger brothers treatment and his own bonds, however whenever he spoke or made a move Henri had been given permission to beat him – a job he took immense pleasure in it would appear.

Porthos knew the Gascon would blame himself if Porthos got injured trying to defend him, the lad was too much like Athos in that respect and the lad definitely didn't need that weight added to his shoulders – even though it would not be the boys fault and Porthos would never blame him for it, so he forced himself not to react – even when Corbin had pour that accursed liquid over the now raw wounds, drawing a heavily muffled scream from his brother. He focused on simply keeping his eyes on his brother, trying to ground the boy by sheer force of will. He needed his brother to know that he wasn't alone, that although it hurt now it would not last for ever and the second he had a chance to get him out of their he would.

But even the larger man had his limits, so when Corbin decided the 'runt' didn't need to be able to walk and then proceeded to break his ankle, Porthos saw red and lashed out as much as he could before yet another punch to his ribs winded him.

He could tell D'Artangan was seriously flagging and it was only the lads stubborn nature that was keeping him conscious at this point but seeing the fear in his eyes as Corbin once again picked up the bottle by his side Porthos couldn't help but curse that fact – if only the boys body would give into unconsciousness then his brother might be free from this pain.

He had little time to reflect on that train of thought though as two things happened when Corbin, once again poured the liquid over D'Artangan's hand aside from the boy screaming again.

One, a shot rang out, taking down Henri who had been preparing to launch another shot at Porthos.

Two, a roar sounded from behind him, followed shortly by the dying grunts of an unsuspecting man.

Porthos's childhood in the Court Of Miracles and his time as a solider had caused him to develop lightning reflexives – usually he saved them for taking coin away from unsuspecting Red Guards, however now he used them to bring himself to his feet – ignoring the burning pain in his ribs, and tackle his remaining guard.

The guard had drawn his dagger a while ago, ready and eager to step in should Henri fail to contain the larger musketeer. So when Porthos knocked him to the ground – knocking the guard unconscious as he did so, he was able to snatch the blade and cut his bonds whilst everyone's focus was on getting to the shooter, who was still taking out Corbin's men with deadly accuracy and taking out the lone swordsman who had suddenly appeared and was taking them out with a finesse that none of them could hope to match. _Bout bloody time they got here _Porthos mused while taking a second to allow full feeling to return to his hands.

When he could feel his hands again he flew over to D'Artangan – the boy seeming abandoned when the fighting started, he trusted Aramis to watch their backs from whatever vantage point he had found and knew Athos could handle the men Aramis had yet to shoot. His only focus at the moment was getting the, surprisingly still conscious, Gascon away from the fight. The boy couldn't even sit up by himself so Porthos very much doubted the man would be able to defend himself should one of Corbin's men decide to attack.

Porthos found himself cursing when he knelt down in front of D'Artangan, now up close he could see the extent of the damage done to his little brother he looked so much worse close up. Steeling himself for whatever pain-filled sounds might emerge from his brother Porthos lifted D'Artangan into his arms, mentally taking note to get some food into the whelp as soon as possible as he was remarkably light.

Scouting the area quickly the larger musketeer noticed a small alcove that could serve as a defensible enough position for him to protect his young charge, so moving as quickly as his battered body would allow he reached the alcove and placed D'Artangan softly on the ground. He was about to turn away, to keep his eyes focused on the battle when a small whisper pulled his attention.

"P'thos?" D'Artangan asked weakly. Simply breathing was a monumental task at the moment so even the young musketeer was impressed that he was able to speak somewhat lucidly.

"Aye, I got ya lad. You're safe now" Porthos spoke softly, running a hand soothingly through the boy's hair – smiling slightly when he saw D'Artangan relax into his touch

"…You…Okay P'thos?" Now that surprised the larger man, his brother was lying on the ground wounded and in a lot of pain and he was concerned about him and his bruises? Shaking his head fondly at his brother's concern he replied "That man Henri packed a mean punch but 'Mis took care of 'im so now we're gunna wait for them to take care of the rest and then 'Mis is gunna come care for you okay?"

" 'Mis?"

"Aye D'Art, him and Athos are here, looks like we're going to have to share Lady Helena's wine with them after all" Porthos joked, his grin spreading when D'Artangan responded with a breathy chuckle, only for it to vanish just a quick when the chuckle was replaced with a coughing fit that had the younger musketeer struggling for breath.

Panic grew in Porthos when D'Artangan suddenly went limp in his arms, only for the larger man to sigh in relief when he realized his brother's stubbornness had finally ran out now that they were somewhat safe and the boy was simply unconscious. While he loathed moving from the lads side Porthos forced himself to move to the entrance of the alcove. He might not be in any condition to join the fight going on in the courtyard, he'd be damned if he let anymore harm befall his baby brother. He could only hope that his other brothers finished the fight soon the boy needed Aramis's medical experience as soon as possible.


	9. Chapter 9

**Afternoon again faithful readers :)**

**Hope you like this chapter. I got a wave of inspiration the other day so have the several of the next chapters already written as well (feeling very productive now) I also have an idea as to how many more chapters this story will have, but i am more than happy to extend or add ideas if there's anything you guys want to see happen, just drop me a PM or a Review and if I think it'll work with the current story line and that I can do it justice I'll do what I can **

**Thanks again to all followers/favouriters/reviewers **

**Enjoy**

**xxx**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

* * *

Chapter 9:

Firing his last shot Aramis performed a quick scan of Corbin's remaining men, they had been in luck as it seemed Corbin was more focused on building up numbers than picking men for their skill. Bar a few who Athos easily took out most of the enemies were almost laughable with a sword.

There now were only a handful of men left and Corbin himself – who seemed content to sacrifice his men if it brought him more time, so Aramis switched from sharpshooter to medic as he made his way down the towers steps. He had seen Porthos reach D'Artangan when the fighting started and thanked the heavens that the big man was able to move as the boy had all but collapsed the second those holding him released their grip of him.

Sparing Athos – who was 'dueling' several of Corbin's men, one last glance the medic raced across the courtyard to the alcove where he had seen Porthos carry D'Artangan to. He found himself hoping the supplies he brought with him would be enough until Athos could finish the fight. They had to move quickly to reach their positions before the fighting started so Aramis had only brought the essentials, the rest remaining in his horse's saddlebags.

* * *

"Porthos!" the medic called as he reached the alcove, knowing the larger man would not hesitate to attack if he thought he was a threat to him and D'Artangan. The Spaniard breathing a sigh of relief when a familiar flash of dark curls emerged from the nook, though the face that followed it made the medic wince, his beloved brother was sporting an impressive black eye and several small cuts and bruises all over his normally roguish face.

"Whelps in bad shape 'Mis" spoke Porthos, pain and tiredness evident in his voice but it was the concern and fear in his tone that stilled Aramis from his fussing over Porthos's face, reminding him of what he had come to do.

Edging into the small alcove Aramis couldn't help the stream of Spanish curses that flew out of him when he saw D'Artangan's condition, before he focused himself and began checking the boys' injuries.

"When did he lose consciousness?" the medic asked, not lifting his face away from D'Artangan's beaten body

"Not long ago, keeps stirring though… Doubt he'll stay that way for much longer" Porthos replied, guilt at his brother's condition seeping into his tone – it was after all Corbin's hatred of him that caused the man to target their youngest.

"Mmmmmh" came a sound from the young Gascon, jolting both men from what they were doing and brought them both instantly to be in the younger man's eye line.

"D'Artangan? I need you to open your eyes for me okay?" the medic asked softly whilst gently tapping the lad's face in an effort to help wake him.

"…'Mis?" D'Artangan asked groggily as he slowly opened his eyes. The smile on his friend's faces made the pain of opening them worth it however. "Yeah, its me D'Art. I'm here and I'm going to take good care of you okay? You're going to be fine just rest"

"…'Thos?"

Aramis couldn't help but smile at this. The boy was in a lot of pain and was exhausted but wouldn't relax until he knew his brothers were safe. "He's taking care of Corbin, he'll be here shortly okay so just rest."

"Mmmm" D'Artangan breathed out, nodding slightly to the medic before slowly turning his head to Porthos and with the most innocent expression he could muster said, "Do we 'ave to share it? 'Thos will drink it all"

The booming laugh that came from Porthos was worth all the pain of speaking and the confused look on Aramis's face almost made the wounded man laugh himself, until a new coughing fit took hold of him – making his ribs burn with pain.

"Easy lad" Porthos said softly as he returned to running his hands through the boy's hair again "Just relax and let 'Mis fix you up. I'll make sure Athos doesn't drink it all"

Whether it was the comforting presence of having his brothers near him or his body finally responding to his pain and fever, D'Artangan once again fell unconscious. Lifting his eyes away from his sleeping brother he looked to Aramis who was sending him a questioning look, but before Porthos could respond a voice from the entrance grabbed their attention "How is he?"

Turning to the entrance Porthos found himself smiling at the sight of his last brother – looking slightly disheveled and tired but otherwise unharmed.

"Not good I'm afraid" the medic responding – he hated that he had to give them bad news but he needed to know the seriousness of their youngest condition "I can set his ankle fine enough – it only just happened so the bones haven't had time to fuse back together yet. He has several broken ribs and the rest are seriously bruised – all I can do for them is to bind them as well as wrap his hand" he spoke seriously, pointing to the offending limb and not missing the guilt-ridden look that spread over Porthos's face and the rage that settled on Athos's. "His shoulder though is another issue" he tone turning grave as he spoke, immediately focusing Porthos and Athos "from what I can see there is no exit wound, meaning the ball is still in there – along with debris from his fall down the hill and whatever was on that rag before they bandaged him with it – he has a serious infection which I can't do anything about here" the medic finished, sitting back on his knees and running a hand through his hair.

"Then we need to leave here" Athos answered stoically before turning to Porthos "are you able to ride?" the question causing Aramis too look up at the musketeer internally cursing – he had been so focused on D'Artangan he had completely forgotten that Porthos was most likely injured as well.

"I'm fine Athos" Porthos replied, causing both Aramis and Athos to raise an eyebrow at the man. Groaning he amended his statement "Ribs 're pretty banged up but don't think they're broken, head hurts but I can ride… He hadn't gotten started on me yet" he responded, almost growling out the last part as he gaze at the beaten body of his baby brother.

Nodding grimly Athos turned back to Aramis "Do what you can for him now, I noticed a wagon in the courtyard, myself and Porthos will go get the horses and set up the wagon then we can get out of here. We're closer to Paris than any inn that I know of so we'll head back to the garrison and you can work on him there"

"Corbin?" Aramis asked suddenly, he did not like the idea of having to transport the man back to Paris alive for what he had done to his brothers, but the small smirk on Athos's face told him all he needed to know and he started to bandage as many of the wounds on their young Gascon as he could while his brother's set to work getting the horses and wagon.

The medic decided to wait for the men to return before attempting to set the boy's ankle – it would only cause him more pain if he began thrashing during the procedure so when they returned the marksman had them brace the boy and made quick work of setting, splinting and then wrapping the ankle, and true to expectations the pain of having broken bones jarred jolted the boy back into consciousness and it was only the comforting words of his brothers and their strong grips on him that stopped the younger musketeer from jerking away from the pain Aramis was causing him.

"…'Thos?"

Looking down into the fever-filled eyes of his little brother Athos sent the boy a questioning look.

"…You get im?"

Smile fondly at his protégé Athos held D'Artangan's uninjured hand and spoke – mainly in effort to distract the boy from the pain, he sorely doubted the fever would allow him to remember most of this experience "Yes and now we're going to get you back to Paris"

It took several seconds for D'Artangan to gather the strength to speak again, but when he did he sounded so childlike it caused all three men to smile "Lost my 'orse" D'Artangan sulked.

"We found her on the way here. But you wont be riding anyway you'll be in the wagon with Aramis so he can keep an eye on that fever" Athos spoke with a hint of amusement in his tone

"I can ride!' D'Artangan said defiantly "…'M fine"

Shaking his head at the boy's stubbornness Aramis spoke up "D'Artangan you have a broken ankle, several broken ribs, a musket ball in your shoulder and an alarmingly high fever …You're not riding"

The pout the young Gascon sent the medic was enough to make the man burst out laughing before he saw the boy's strength fading. Silently the medic signaled his brothers to carry D'Artangan to the wagon.

The sooner they were gone from this accursed place the better.


	10. Chapter 10

**Evening My Lovelies **

**We're heading back to Paris now but that doesn't mean the battles over :) **

**I know I didnt go into any detail about Athos's fight against Corbin but don't worry that will be brought up again in a later chapter. In all honesty I had forgotten that I planned to mention it until Tidia asked about it in a review so thank you for that :D x **

**I'm so close to 50 followers now it's so exciting :D I really hadn't expected this story (and my writing) to get the response that it has so thank you all so very much :D**

**Another two chapters for you all tonight I hope you enjoy **

**xxx**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

* * *

Chapter 10:

The ride back to Paris seemed to drag on forever. In an unspoken agreement the three elder musketeers decided to continue along the back road Porthos and D'Artangan had originally been travelling on as there would be less chance of attack from bandits and it would be much quicker than backtracking to the turn off for the main road.

Unfortunately being a back road it meant that it was poorly maintained in comparison to that of the major roads. Had they all been on horseback it would be a simple task to avoid potholes and uneven ground but with the addition of a wagon they had no such luck at avoiding these obstacles.

This meant that those on the wagon were forced to deal with the constant juddering. For the medic this was nothing more than a minor annoyance but for their battered, bruised and wounded younger brother each rut in the road sent another surge of pain through his already pained body.

Aramis had done his best for the boy, having given him a draught for the pain before they set out – which seemed to be doing little for the young Gascon, and was now laid down beside him, doing his best to brace the younger man against the constant jarring without aggravating the boys injuries further, all the while trying to soothe the Gascon when the pain became too much and he couldn't contain pained whimpers.

Porthos was doing little better than D'Artangan, having declined pain relief before setting out, stating that he was 'fine' the larger man now found himself regretting that decision as the unevenness of the road jarred his pained ribs further, causing black spots to dance across his vision whenever they reached a particularly bad patch of road.

Athos had seen his brother's expression becoming increasingly pained and winced in sympathy – he had been forced to ride with both bruised and broken ribs before and were it not imperative that they reach Paris as quickly as possible he would have insisted that they rest so Aramis could have a proper look at them.

As it were he knew that Porthos would blatantly refuse to rest while D'Artangan was in pain. Athos had enough experience with wallowing in guilt that he could spot the signs a mile off – he could tell his friend blamed himself for their youngest condition, even though he strongly suspected the man himself held no blame on Porthos.

"He won't blame you for this you know" Athos spoke, desperate to remove even just a portion of the guilt from his brother's shoulders.

The grunt he got in response however was not what Athos was after, so the musketeer continued.

"It was a sound strategy splitting up like you did. You had no way of knowing it was Corbin who would attack you, had you not of split up all four of you could have been captured and we would have had no idea what route you had taken and Corbin would have had more time to damage to the lot of you before we could have reached you." Athos reached out to place a hand on Porthos's arm, as he implored, "This is NOT your doing Do not blame yourself for that monsters actions"

Any response the larger man was going to make was stopped before it could even be spoken as a wheezy D'Artangan called out to his brother, "P'thos…"

Porthos was by his little brothers side in an instant and placed a hand on the wounded boy's arm to let him know he was there when he realized that his eyes were glazed over either in pain or fever he couldn't tell but he highly doubted the lad was fully conscious at this point.

"…'ts not…your fault…d'n't blame y'se'f okay" D'Artangan wheezed out before whimpering in pain as the wagon passed over another pothole.

"D'Artangan!" Aramis chided from his spot next to the boy "you need to save your strength! Stop talking and just try to rest you stubborn Gascon. We're approaching Paris now which means I'm going to need to look at that shoulder soon, you need to focus on getting better for now." Sending a concerned look to Porthos "you can nag and yell at Porthos later for now conserve your strength okay?"

Aramis decided to take the boy's silence as agreement to his order before turning to his other brother in all but blood "well you heard the lad" he said nodding to D'Artangan "he doesn't blame you and doesn't want you blaming yourself, surely your honor wont let you ignore a wounded brothers request" the last part said in jest as they all knew he would blame himself until D'Artangan was well again and was lucid enough to coherently tell him that he didn't blame him.

* * *

"We're not far from the garrison now" Athos spoke after several minutes of silence between the men – save from pained grunts and whimpers from their youngest.

"Take D'Artangan to my rooms – they're the largest out of all of ours and away from the training courtyard, he'll be able to rest easier there "

"What about you?" Aramis asked, after what they had all just witnessed and experienced he wasn't overly eager for them to be separated anytime soon.

"I'm going to ride ahead and inform Treville as well as things ready for you. – I'm guessing you're going to need hot water ready fast and I doubt Porthos has eaten in a few days. I'll get things sent to my room so you can tend to the boy as soon as you get there."

Nodding in appreciation Aramis gave Athos a list of things he would need ready and the man spurred his horse into a fast canter in the direction of the garrison.

* * *

Arriving at the garrison Athos was unsurprised to see Treville approaching him – the man had probably been on lookout for them since they left, though no-one would ever admit it the captain could be as much of a 'mother-hen' at times as Aramis – he just had a different way of showing it.

"Athos!" Treville called as he saw the man dismount his horse "What happened?"

Normally Athos would be much more cordial to his captain, however after the events of the last few days he found he had little patience to deal with anything outside ensuring everything was prepared for his brothers' arrival "Corbin Marshal happened" he all but growled out as he handed the horses reins to the garrisons stable boy.

Treville cursed, he should have known that Corbin would eventually seek revenge against the musketeers for what happened. Paling slightly as he remembered what had become of the last few people that man had gotten his hands on he asked "Porthos? D'Artangan?" The guilt that had been festering within him since learning they were missing grew exponentially as Athos quickly summarized the events, as they knew them – he had sent them out to that, he had sent them right into Corbin's clutches.

"They should be arriving soon and Aramis needs to get to work straight away please have hot and cold water sent to my rooms and some food for Porthos – I doubt Corbin had the decency to feed them during their stay with him"

"Of course" Treville agreed nodding "get whatever supplies Aramis may need from the infirmary and I'll have the water sent up as soon as it's ready"

Giving his thanks to the captain Athos marched to the infirmary to gather supplies and to let an anxious Laurent and Gerard know that although wounded Porthos and D'Artangan were alive before making his way to his rooms to wait for his brothers.


	11. Chapter 11

**Evening again lovelies :)**

**Here's tonights second chapter, I hope you enjoy it**

**Once again mega mega thanks to everyone who follows/favourites/reviews this story you guys are the best**

**Enjoy**

**xxx**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

* * *

Chapter 11:

The sight that greeted Captain Treville when his men arrived at the garrison, just half an hour after Athos, brought back all the anger and rage he felt towards Corbin Marshal in full force.

Aramis looked worried, the usually exuberant marksman was a shadow of his usual self – testament of the other men's condition.

Porthos, Treville couldn't help but wince when he saw the larger musketeer he was covered in bruises and various other small wounds – he had clearly taken an impressive beating and if the way he was holding himself in the saddle was anything to go by he was also sporting at least several broken ribs.

It was D'Artangan's condition however that made the captains blood boil. The young man was currently curled up tight at Aramis's side whimpering slightly with his eyes shut tight in pain as the medic was whispering soothing words into his ears and holding him as tightly as he dared with the boys injuries.

"Aramis!" Treville called to the medic as he approached the wagon, silently asking the Spaniard for information and explanations

"He's in rough shape ca'tain," Porthos cautioned when he saw the look Aramis was sending Treville. When the medic was focused on his comrade's health he lacked all sense of manners and decency – not that the man ever noticed it himself of course.

D'Artangan had been slowly getting worse during the last leg of their journey and Porthos could tell that the sharpshooter was not about to waste time chatting to the captain, no matter how much the man was entitled to the information.

Nodding at the silent warning in Porthos's tone Treville beckoned over the musketeers he had waiting on standby with a stretcher and turned back to Aramis and the musketeer helped pass his little brother over onto the stretcher. "Athos arrived half an hour before you, he's in his rooms and has everything you've asked for from the infirmary waiting there as well. Hot water was brought up less than a few minutes ago and Dr. Monroe is on standby should you need him. Anything else call and we shall see it done – go take care of him."

Tipping his hat in thanks Aramis raced up to Athos's room followed by Porthos, who despite his injuries was remarkably quick footed as he darted up the stairs to be by his little brothers side.

* * *

Turing around to face the rest of the garrison Treville couldn't help but smile at the men under his command as they awaited information and orders. He knew Athos, Aramis and Porthos were held in the highest regard by the rest in the regiment, having proved themselves many times over to value brotherhood, honor and loyalty above all and many men owed their lives to Aramis's keen eyes and steady hands or to Athos's swordsmanship and strategic mind or to Porthos's quick reflexives and fists.

And D'Artangan – well that boy seemed to have the ability to make anyone like him, even Samuel – the garrisons quartermaster, who was renowned for not liking anyone, seemed to have a soft spot for the young Gascon. The lad's youthful exuberance and enthusiasm reminded the older musketeers of what they were like when they joined. His skill and ability to pick things he's taught quickly made many of the younger recruits eager to outdo him – Treville had an inkling that there was a secret competition going on between D'Artangan and several of the most promising recruits and that Porthos was in charge of the betting.

"Two of our own have been wounded, Porthos seems set to make a full recovery, however D'Artangan's condition is grave" Treville called out to his men "I want every one of you, who have not been given missions today or on parade duty at the palace to remain here and help Aramis with whatever he needs!" he ordered before returning to his office to await news of his men.

* * *

Aramis had moved quickly when they arrived at Athos's rooms, the man himself had clearly been nervously anticipating their arrival, ordering the men carrying D'Artangan to lay him on the bed he turned to take stock of the supplies Athos had gotten for him and placing a kiss on his rosary in silent prayer that it will be enough.

Glancing over to his brothers he could see the need to be doing something, anything, burning passionately in their eyes "Athos" the medic ordered, startling the man slightly from where his gaze had been burning a hole into the bed where their youngest now lay, quirking an eyebrow at the medic in silent question Aramis continued "See to Porthos's ribs, I doubt the ride did them any favours and make sure he eats something." Sensing the coming protest from his friend Aramis raised a hand "I doubt the boy has enough strength to fight me at this point" tilting his head to the now unconscious charge laying on Athos's bed, before softening his gaze, "however we all know that boy will blame himself if he wakes up and sees you in less than perfect condition my friend" Aramis hated using their youngest as a way to get Porthos to rest but he had no choice, however in an attempt to lighten the mood he sent the larger musketeer a jesting smirk before saying "besides we all know we're going to need your strength to keep the boy in bed whilst he heals." The quiet chuckle from both men – undoubtedly remembering when D'Artangan was put on bed rest after their last mission, they almost had to resort to tying the boy to the bed so he wouldn't do any further damage to his wounds and it was only the threat of having Porthos sit on him that eventually kept the boy in his bed, was enough for the medic.

"Fine" Porthos grunted at his friend before struggling with his shirt – only to glare at Athos when he stepped forward to help him "but you need us you say alright?" he said, sending the medic a look that brokered no argument.

"But of course my friend" he replied tipping his hat to the man before sending up one final prayer and turning to start the long task of saving his little brothers life.


	12. Chapter 12

**Evening my lovelies :)**

**Only one chapter tonight I'm afraid but I hope you'll enjoy it all the same**

**As always mega thanks to everyone who follows/favourites/review this story **

**Enjoy**

**xxx**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

* * *

Chapter 12:

It had been over two hours since Aramis had started to tend to the young Gascon. During that time Athos had bound Porthos's ribs – despite the vehement protests from the man himself that he was fine and didn't need Athos's fussing. He had also managed get the larger man to eat – it may have only been some bread, but considering circumstances Athos counted it as a win.

Since then, with nothing to occupy himself with – aside from fulfilling the occasional request from the group's medic for things like more light or fresh water, Athos had taken to pacing by the foot of the bed. He had originally been sat by the boy's side, stroking his hair whilst practically demanding a running commentary from the Spaniard as to the boy's condition. It was only when the medic – who up to that point had been so focused on his young charge that he hadn't spoken to either of the other occupants in the room, save for the sporadic bark of an order, had finally snapped at him, threatening to kick him out of the room if he didn't stop, that Athos had removed himself from his protégé's side, much to Porthos's great amusement, he had seen the medic getting increasingly tense and aggravated by Athos's constant badgering and knew it was only a matter of time until he exploded at the man.

* * *

So far Aramis had been correct in his earlier assumption that the younger musketeer would be too weak to fight against his ministrations, though he would admit he was concerned that the boy hadn't even stirred when he had dug the ball from his shoulder. The medic was torn between wanting his younger brother to stir and awake to show he was improving and wanting the lad to stay unconscious, blissfully unaware of the pain no doubt ravaging his body.

He had managed to remove the bullet from the Gascon's shoulder after some trouble, it seemed that the shot had embedded itself within the lad's shoulder blade – cracking the bone which resulted in the medic having to dig deeper than he would have liked to remove it. Aramis had winced at this, although luckily not the boy's dominant hand this injury would still put him out of commission for several weeks – especially when coupled with his broken ankle and wounded hand.

Having successfully removed the ball from his shoulder Aramis had quickly set to work on creating the most powerful poultice he could to draw out the serious infection that had set in. Before he could apply it however he was forced to dig though the wound again to remove all foreign fragments that had lodged themselves in there, such as pieces of the shirt he had been wearing when the shot pierced him, dirt and debris from his fall down the hill and whatever had been on the – frankly filthy rag that Corbin had his men use to bind the injury.

And unfortunately for the medic it was during this that D'Artangan had shown signs of waking – his brows furrowing in pain and heartbreaking whimpers escaping from his mouth.

"Shhh D'Artangan I have you my friend but you need to stay still" Aramis coxed when the boy started to twitch and tried, subconsciously to move away from what was causing him pain.

Fortunately for the sharpshooter the first sounds of pain had brought Athos straight to the boy's side. Normally this display of emotion from their leader would have him teasing the man ruthlessly, but for now he was simply glad for his presence. Athos always seemed to have a way with the boy when he was injured, it would typically be only him who could calm him when fevered, so knowing D'Artangan was in the best hands he returned to cleaning the wound, sending a smile to Porthos who had brought another candle over having anticipated the medic's thoughts.

"Le' … 'im go you b'sta'd" D'Artangan weakly mumbled whilst trying vainly to raise his good arm to attack the figure his fevered mind was causing him to see in his sleep.

Athos raised a questioning eyebrow to his companions, he had no idea exactly what their usually mild mannered Gascon was seeing and, if the returning look on Aramis's face was anything to go by neither did he.

It was Porthos, however who instantly recognized what was plaguing their young whelp and the guilt he had been battling down for the last few hours came surging back to the forefront as he fell to his knees and gripped D'Artangan's good ankle in a desperate attempt to anchor the boy.

"I'm fine D'Art" the larger man implored fervently hoping his voice could penetrate the boy's fevered mind. Ignoring the questioning looks from his brothers which were now turned on him he continued "He's dead lad, he ain't hur'ing anyone anymore. Athos got 'im remember"

Whether it was the desperation in Porthos's tone or simply the mention of his beloved mentor's name none of them knew but thankfully the boy seemed to calm at that statement.

"…P'thos?" came a weak voice from the boy in the bed, the voice was laced with so much pain and hope it broke his brothers hearts, before D'Artangan cried out in pain as Aramis dug out the last stubborn bit of debris from his shoulder.

"Easy little brother" Aramis soothed "That was the last bit but now I need you to lay still while I stitch this up okay, otherwise you'll end up with a horrid scar"

The order was lost on the fevered Gascon as he once again called for his brother, who practically shoved Athos out of the way to be in the lad's line of sight, guilt once again festering when he saw the eyes of his little brother, glazed over in fever and pain.

"I'm here whelp," he said, squeezing the younger man's hand. Aramis took full advantage of D'Artangan's distracted state and began stitching up the boy's shoulder.

"…'m sorry… P'thos" D'Artangan murmured weakly in between winces of pain as the medic stitched his wound. "…'ts all my fau't …'m sorry you got h'rt."

The younger musketeers desperate pleas for forgiveness almost broke the larger man – D'Artangan had been tortured and still blamed himself for Porthos's injuries, and that was something he could not… **would** not allow to stand.

"D'Artangan!" the commanded, squeezing the boy's hand harder to force the Gascon to, once again focus on him. When he saw those fever-filled eyes on him again he continued, "This ain't your fault okay! You held out better than most men could even dream of in that situation… Corbin would 'ave hurt me regardless of you. Him 'nd he's men are to blame not you understood?"

D'Artangan looked like he was going to protest when Porthos spoke again "listen closely whelp. I. Don't. Blame. You" as he held the young Gascon's eyes, his own pleading the injured man to believe him and after several agonizing moments it seemed like he did as the Gascon's tension visibly lessened and within seconds the boy was asleep once again.

"Oh. Now he falls asleep – once I've **finished **stitching him" Aramis said sarcastically, though the tone was fond. Lifting his head to face his brothers Aramis could see the need for good news so spoke again "I've cleaned the wound and stitched it up, I have a strong poultice which should help fight the infection though we are going to need to keep a close eye on it. All that's left to do is to bandage it." He could see his brothers visibly sag with relief and hated the next part he had to give them "his fever is cause for concern though. Its alarmingly high and with his body already weak from Corbin's action" Pausing to get himself together he turned to look his brothers in their eyes – he needed them to understand how serious this was "I fear he may not have the strength to survive."


	13. Chapter 13

**Evening Ever Loyal Readers :)**

**After leaving you guys on a mini cliffy yesterday - a cliffhanger light if you will (I'm hyped up sugar and good music at the moment you'll have to forgive my weirdness) I felt I should let you know that I dont think I can physically kill him so don't worry about that, this will not be a death fic. **

**Aaaannnyyyways back to the chapter, as usual thanks to everyone who follows/favourites/reviews (Just need one more to have 50 followers :D) **

**Enjoy**

**xxx**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

* * *

Chapter 13:

Aramis's dark vocalization of their Gascon's condition seemed to be coming into fruition as the young musketeer's fever continued to stay at an alarmingly high rate, seemingly indifferent to all of the medic's attempts to combat it.

At one point he was forced to drain the boy's previously clear shoulder wound. It had been a painful experience for all four men as D'Artangan's cries of pain tore into their hearts. The usually strong men were brought to tears as D'Artangan called – not for his father as they had expected, but instead had pleaded and cried for his brothers to save him, to rescue him from the pain before once again falling silent, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

* * *

Athos took the boy's pain especially hard, having developed a remarkably strong bond with the young Gascon despite the short about of time he had known him. He knew the boy looked to him as a mentor, elder brother and in some respect a father, the lad never failed to surprise him with the admiration and love he held for the surly musketeer. In turn Athos himself saw the Gascon as the little brother he never knew he needed and he realized, as he watched the younger man desperately try to fight the fever and infection raging through his body, that the hole that had been pummeled into his heart when he had lost his blood related little brother Thomas was slowly being filled by the exuberant young pup that had somehow found a way though the impossibly high walls the man had built around his heart. He worried though as he did not know if he was strong enough, even with the support of Aramis and Porthos, to survive the loss of another little brother.

Another whimper of pain from D'Artangan had the elder musketeer mentally slapping himself _the boy will be fine, if he can survive being tied to gunpowder and almost blown to pieces then he can most certainty survive a fever. _As Athos wiped the boy's brow with a cool cloth he spared a glance to his other brothers, neither had spoken in the last few hours and Athos could tell they were both battling their own guilt.

Aramis, although a solider, was a medic at heart and to have to cause his young charge further pain so he could drain out the infection had taken its toll on the already exhausted Spaniard. As it was the sharpshooter was now sat on his haunches by D'Artangan's head, his hands clenched so tight around his ornate rosary that had been a gift from the queen that his hands were turning white as a soft litany of prayers fell from his mouth.

Porthos on the other hand was battling inner demons that Athos knew none but either the man himself or their young Gascon could hope to both understand and defeat. The larger musketeer was currently sat beside Aramis with one hand on D'Artangan's chest – though whether it was to comfort the boy or to reassure himself that the boy was still breathing Athos did not know.

* * *

As much as he didn't want to force his brother to relive the events of the last few days he could help his curiosity at what D'Artangan had said the last time he had been conscious.

"Porthos…" he began hesitantly, waiting for his brother to lift his gaze away from their sleeping brother before continuing, the sound of his voice causing Aramis to stop half way through his latest prayer. "What did D'Artangan mean when he said it was his fault that you got hurt."

The dark look in Porthos's eyes would have suggested to most people that they had grievously stepped over their mark, however Athos was not most people, he knew Porthos well enough to know that the look was due more to the remembrance of events then the fact that Athos had asked.

If Porthos was being honest he was surprised it had taken either of his brothers so long to ask about their youngest earlier plea for the older man to forgive him.

"Corbin" Porthos started after several moments pause, spitting the now dead ex-musketeer's name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth "decided to torture us in front of the other… 'e started with the whelp as he said…" Aramis reached over to squeeze his brother's shoulder when the larger man's voice faulted at the end, both Aramis and Athos knew that it was painful for Porthos to relive this but that he also wouldn't deny them the information.

Drawing a shaky breath Porthos continued "He said that I wou'dn't be awake to see it once 'e finished with me… and that wa'tchin' 'im with D'Art 'nd not being able to do 'nything was an extra torture."

Athos nodded solemnly, he had expected as much given Porthos's lack of substantial injuries and Corbin's immense hatred of the man, though none of this explained why D'Artangan felt the needed to beg the man for forgiveness when he doubted the boy could even see straight.

"He told his man, Henri" Porthos continued, glad that his brothers had chosen to let him get it all out without interruption "that if I reacted to the pain he was causing the whelp, that he could beat me." Choosing to ignore the deadly look that passed between his two brothers he persisted in telling his tale "D'Art was conscious at first, bit beaten and bruised from his tumble down the hill, but lucid enough to force himself to resist crying out or makin' any sounds of pain. 'E was doing well, was seriously impressive… Till that bastard broke 'is ankle… I fought back at first, figured that I could at least distract Corbin from hurting the whelp for a bit, didn't even make him blink, let alone stop 'e just let Henri do whatever he wanted… W'en I realized what the boy was doing, trying not to make a sound so I wouldn't respond I forced myself not to react to his pain"

Both Aramis and Athos gave their friend a soft sympathetic smile as they gave him a reassuring hand squeeze – Porthos might look frightening and intimidating most of the time but the man had the largest heart and was the kindest soul either of them knew, to be forced to watch as a man he considered a little brother was tortured in front of him and not be able to do a damn thing about it, not even react for fear of bringing further pain onto the boy, was tearing the larger man up inside.

"Porthos…" Aramis said shakily, the medic was exhausted but would not rest until D'Artangan was out of the woods "the boy does not blame you so do not blame yourself for that monsters actions. Any of us would have reacted the same as you in that situation, you are not at fault my friend"

"…Damn…Right"


	14. Chapter 14

**Evening my lovelies **

**I have decided to be nice and give you all 2 chapters tonight**

**I hope you all enjoy them and thanks again to followers/favouriters/reviewers you all make my day :) **

**xxx**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

* * *

Chapter 14:

_"…Damn…Right"_

The weakly croaked statement had the three men almost jumping out of their skins, all at once they turned to face the cause – the boy was still alarmingly pale, though Aramis had stated that this was more due to the blood loss from his shoulder wound then anything else, after all the boy had been left bleeding for almost a day before Aramis had been able to see to it and while the bandage Corbin had tied did help staunch the blood flow it did not stop it completely.

The sight of the young Gascon awake had the three elder musketeers very nearly tripping over both themselves and each other as they rushed to be by his side – having moved away slightly when Porthos had been talking in an effort to better support the man as he relived the traumatic memories of the past few days.

Had D'Artangan been in a better condition he would have found their panicked scrambling to be extremely hilarious but as it was he was currently being forced to focus all his attention on staying awake – blood loss, torture and a raging fever had made him feel like he could quite happily sleep for a week without a second thought.

Only he couldn't sleep, not yet, not while Porthos still blamed himself for everything that happened. He couldn't let that stand, couldn't let the man doubt himself and he's abilities as both a leader and a brother.

* * *

Unfortunately for D'Artangan however, before he could even broach the conversation with Porthos he first had to submit to Aramis's examination of his wounds and fever. Normally the headstrong Gascon would resist any 'mothering' from the Spaniard, however he felt weak, drained and the dreams of being tortured and of Porthos being beaten in front of him still haunted him, even with him now awake, and the young man found himself needing the reassuring comfort of being surrounded by his brothers and couldn't help but lean slightly into Aramis's touch when the medic placed a hand on his forehead to check his fever.

To his credit the marksman did not comment on his little brother's actions, he himself was all too familiar with needing the comfort of brothers after a traumatic experience. After Savoy he had alternated between pushing his brothers away – fearing himself to be cursed and not worthy of their love, and pulling them as close as possible – many a night he had spent in one of their rooms after turning up in the middle of the night, tears streaming down his face – it had ended up with both men leaving their doors unlocked when they retired on evenings where they recognized the signs, letting their emotionally wounded brother enter their rooms without having the guilt of waking them up to do so.

To see the stubborn Gascon so vulnerable tore at each of their hearts but the medic smiled fondly at the boy, understanding that it was only to them that he would be so openly vulnerable with, it was a testament to the love and trust that D'Artangan had for them that he allowed them to see him this way.

"It's good to see you awake my friend you had us all worried" he spoke softly, his tone echoing all the love that D'Artangan had shown for them.

"…How long?" he croaked out. Even in his fevered stated D'Artangan could still see the worry and tiredness on his brother's features.

"Small sips" Athos commanded gently as he lifted the lad's head so he could have some of the water that Aramis had laced with herbs to help combat the boy's fever before he answered the mans question "You've been unconscious for about a day, your wound had become infected and we have all been here to help you fight the fever that set in because of it."

Surprise graced D'Artangan's features, although that quickly changed into understanding, no wonder his brothers looked so worried and exhausted

"Sorry" he mumbled sleepily as he subconsciously leant into Athos's had as his mentor began to stroke his hair.

Smiling fondly at the boy again Aramis finished his examination "You have nothing to be sorry for my friend. You can simply repay us by being a good patient and follow doctors orders when I say your on bed rest for the next few weeks" the medic spoke, smirking slightly at the indignant expression on his little brother's face, the boy practically radiated youthful energy – when he was in perfect health, he always seemed to be on the move and the one thing he hated more than anything was bed rest, much to the amusement and annoyance of the three of them.

"D'Artangan you were shot, tortured and had your ankle broken, if you think you're going to be getting up any time soon you have another thing coming"

The glare D'Artangan had tried to send his way was significantly diminished by the boy's obvious exhaustion. "Get some sleep D'Artangan, we can discuss the terms of your bed rest when you're more awake."

Shaking his head – which, as it turned out, was not a smart thing to do as blood loss coupled with having little in the way of food the last few days caused his vision to swim and the world around him to tilt momentarily.

* * *

When the world had stopped tilting he opened his eyes again – though he did not remember closing them in the first place. "Can't" he said with as much determination as he could muster in his present state, he would not put it past Aramis to drug him if the medic felt it was necessary so he forced himself to appear as well as he could. Although a raised eyebrow from Athos had him seriously reconsidering how much he had been believed.

"And why's that?" the elder musketeer asked, concern unknowingly floating into his tone, he knew how much D'Artangan hated to appear weak in front of them and he disliked the thought that something was troubling the boy so much that he would deny his body the rest it desperately needed to recover.

"…Need to talk…" the Gascon mumbled out as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Seeing the confused looks on his brothers faces he pushed himself up on his uninjured arm – ignoring the protests from both his aching body and from Aramis, he turned his gaze to Porthos "…Need to …Set the record straight"

Understanding grew in Athos at that statement and he offered his young protégé a soft half smile "Porthos will still be here in the morning" the man himself understood then as well, remembering how D'Artangan had spoken up at the end of his retelling of events, he had no idea how much the whelp had heard, but if he wanted to talk to him he had clearly heard enough.

"Aye lad, rest and we'll talk when you wake" He really didn't want to talk about it again but he knew that the boy was sometimes similar to Aramis when it came to dealing with problems, in that if something was bothering him he had to speak to someone about it before he could get any peace, and if talking to Porthos would give the lad some peace of mind then the man was certainly not going to deny him that, not after everything he had put him through.

It was Aramis however who seemed to seal the deal, smirking slightly as he turned to D'Artangan "You'll be able to nag at him for longer when you're rested, just think about that"

Silence echoed throughout the room for several moments and the three elder musketeers were beginning to think that the boy had fallen asleep on them when he spoke up again, sounding so childlike that it made them remember just how young their Gascon really was

"Tomorrow…" D'Artangan started hesitantly, his eyes never leaving Porthos's face "Promise?"

Unable to deny the young man anything when he pulled out those puppy-dog eyes Porthos promised him and the Gascon drifted, once again to the realm of dreams.


	15. Chapter 15

**Greeting again loyal readers :)**

**As stated here's tonight's second chapter - we get to see a bit of Athos vs Corbin fight in this as well **

**Enjoy and once again sending my love to all you who follow/favourite/review **

**xxx**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

* * *

Chapter 15:

Smiling down at the now sleeping Gascon Aramis looked up to meet the expectant eyes of his brothers, relief filling him, as he was now able to give them more positive news he turned his smile onto them.

"His temperature is lower, still high but it's a very positive sign, as was him waking up. If we can keep bringing the fever down he should make a full recovery."

The feeling of relief in the room was almost palatable as the three men reveled in the first piece of good news any of them had heard in days.

"Treville will be wanting news," Athos said, rising from his spot on the floor by D'Artangan's head.

"I'll give this big lug a proper look over now that D'Artangan's stable" Aramis responded, sending a smirk to the larger musketeer.

Shaking his head at his brothers' antics as Porthos kept playfully swatting the medic's hands away and calling him a 'mother-hen' when the Spaniard tried to examine him, Athos left the room.

Pausing outside the door Athos allowed his body a moment to relax, expelling the worry, fear and adrenaline that had been fueling him for the last few days since his brothers' disappearance.

Subconsciously Athos's hand went to touch the small cut, just above his left eyebrow, that he had received during his fight with Corbin, the musketeer's face unbeknownst to him, forming an impressive scowl as the memory of that encounter took over.

* * *

**_FLASHBACK_**

_"__Well looks like its just us now, eh Athos?" sneered Corbin as his circled the musketeer._

_"__You'll pay for what you have done to them Corbin!" Athos snapped back, the musketeer was beginning to feel the exhaustion. He had slept little the night before they had set off to begin searching – that coupled with the hard ride they'd undertaken and the fact that, although lacking in any semblance of skill, he had fought an impressive number of men before it was just him and Corbin._

_Seeing this Corbin's face morphed into a feral grin, "seem to be flagging a bit there Athos… You're not tired are you?" he questioned mockingly. "Why don't you take your Spanish friend an go back to Paris… I'll take good care of Porthos and the runt, on my honor" he jeered, licking his lips._

_"__You know nothing of honor Corbin!" Athos growled, before lashing out with his sword – the clashing of blade silencing any further conversation for some time. _

_Corbin was confident he could win this fight; at full strength Athos was a force to be reckoned with. Fortunately for him the musketeer was fatigued and the man's precious honor would prevent him from using any underhanded tactics that could help him win the fight. _

_Unfortunately for Athos, Corbin had no such honor as he quickly proved as he swept his sword low to the ground, sending up a cloud of dust – momentarily blinding the musketeer, before lunging at the now incapacitated man. _

_Athos's training kicked in the moment his vision was obscured, his brain telling him to move and to do it quickly lest he meet his end at Corbin's blade. This training allowed him to escape, what would have been a substantial injury and instead just receive a cut above his eyebrow. _

_Athos, calm as only an experienced soldier could be in the situation, wiped the blood now trickling down into his eye away before attacking Corbin with much more vigor then the man had expected given the musketeer's apparent fatigue. _

_The only thought running through Athos's mind was the sound of D'Artangan's screams as the man in front of his blade broke his ankle without a second thought. D'Artangan and Porthos were his brothers and Athos found that he had little patience in fighting with his usual finesse when they were within his reach and wounded. _

_He had seen Aramis rush to their aid earlier before he had begun fighting Corbin so he felt little need to panic. The medic was more skilled than he usually let on and would be more than competent in keeping them safe and alive until they could get out of here. _

_Still he had seen D'Artangan and Porthos and while hopefully not life-threatening he knew they were still in a lot of pain and Athos had no intention of drawing out a fight to get his revenge when he had the ability to end this fight now. _

_Performing several impressive maneuvers in rapid succession Athos soon had Corbin pushed back and within moment the man was impaled on his sword. _

_Deciding not to pay attention to the dying curses spewing from Corbin's mouth Athos gave his sword a quick wipe to remove the blood and picked up his hat from were it had fallen off earlier in their assault on the hideout. _

_Passing by the dying man Athos couldn't help himself, he knelt down beside him and, speaking in low tones as to not be overheard in case Aramis or Porthos had decided to come looking for him said "It is only my honor that prevents me from doing to you what you have done to my men. Still no-one shall mourn your death and you will pay for your sins for eternity in hell." Before standing up and heading to the alcove where he had seen Aramis run to earlier. _

**_END FLASHBACK_**

* * *

Shaking the memory from his mind Athos straightened himself as he turned and headed to the Captain's office – despite the ridiculous lateness of the hour Athos was confident that he would find the man still there, no doubt busying himself with paperwork of little importance as he awaited news.

True to expectations Treville did indeed remain in his office, the man having refused to retire for the night until he knew of the young musketeers' fate – regardless of the outcome.

However hours had past with little word from any of the three men who were currently overseeing the wounded Gascon. Treville constantly reminded himself that no news, in this instance, was a good thing and meant in all likelihood that the boy still clung to life. The fact that Aramis had not called for the doctor Treville had on standby was also another positive factor he forced his brain to remember – Aramis might be stubborn when it comes to allowing others to treat his brothers but the medic would never deny them help if he knew that their wounds exceeded his realm of knowledge and experience.

A knock on his door disrupted him from his faults and Treville steeled himself for whatever information he was about to learn.

Opening the door to reveal a tired Athos, Treville quickly ushered him inside and, doing his best to maintain his usual gruffness he asked the one question that had been plaguing him since seeing the appalling condition of his musketeer "How's D'Artangan?"

The small smile that appeared over Athos's face was all Treville needed to know that the boy still lived but he let the man answer the question "Aramis says his fever is still very high but seems to be responding to our attempts to lower it. D'Artangan woke for several minutes not too long ago and although exhausted, appeared coherent and lucid. Aramis says this is another positive sign."

"And his injuries?"

"His ankle was a clean break and with sufficient bed rest should heal perfectly"

Treville snorted at the idea of D'Artangan on bed rest "good luck with that then, the lads a menace at escaping his bed"

Athos smile grew at that, no doubt remembering all the times the boy had previously been on ordered bed rest.

"The damage done to his hand" Athos continued, his smile turning into a grimace "will require the boy's hand being wrapped or covered while it heals. Aramis says its too easy for it to get infected and will be tender while the nails regrow."

Treville found himself scowling at this, he had not noticed any injuries on the young man's hand when he arrived – though he was slightly preoccupied by the more obvious injuries.

"And his shoulder?"

Athos was glad that Treville hadn't asked about what exactly caused the injuries on D'Artangan's hand, Porthos had told him and he had no desire to retell that particular piece of their ordeal.

"The shot hadn't been removed and the wound became severely infected – causing the boy's high fever, it also cracked the bone slightly and will no doubt cause the boy some pain until it heals"

Treville subconsciously rubbed his shoulder at this – remembering the pain of breaking the bone when he had fought LeBarge the day D'Artangan earned - no received his commission, the boy having earned his commission in his captains eyes months previously.

"What of Porthos?" Treville had seen the way the musketeer had held himself when he arrived – clearly the man had been in pain and while his focus may have been on the young Gascon he would not let Athos leave until he knew the fate of both of his men.

"More bruised than broken, I bound his ribs earlier while Aramis was focused on D'Artangan – he's looking him over properly now that the boy's stable."

Treville frowned at this, he had expected more damage what with Corbin's hatred of the large musketeer, however he could tell that now was not the time to question it – he could see Athos twitching and itching to leave and return to his protégés side, smiling fondly at his lieutenant he allowed him to leave.

"Go back to your men Athos, you and Aramis have the week off. Porthos and D'Artangan are excused from duty until Aramis gives his approval. Oh and Serge left a basket of food for you in the kitchen, make sure you take it with you I know none of you have eaten in hours."

* * *

**MEANWHILE IN ATHOS'S ROOM**

" 'M fine 'Mis, just some bruising" Porthos groaned as he, once again slapped away the medic's hands.

"Well if its just bruising you wont mind me having a look at it then will you?" the Spaniard retorted, smirking in victory when the larger man gave a huff of resignation and allowed him to remove his shirt to get a better look at the beating he had withstood.

Aramis couldn't help but wince in sympathy the Porthos's shirt was removed, even covered with bandages as it was the man's chest was a multitude of colours and not one bit of it was apparently spared.

"Looks worse than it feel 'Mis, just sore" Porthos spoke softly, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder when he saw the dark look that appeared over his face at the sight of his beating.

"Should've shot that man in the gut, not the head. A quick death was too merciful for him" Aramis mumbled quietly to himself, before perking himself back up and sending Porthos a reassuring smile.

"I'm going to unwrap your ribs so I can check them properly, then I'll make something to help with the bruises."

"Save your herbs for the whelp 'Mis I'll be fine" Porthos protested, the guilt he felt denying him any willingness to take the herbs from D'Artangan.

Sighing in frustration Aramis lightly cuffed his friend on his shoulder "I have plenty and if I run out I can get more, besides D'Artangan could do with some of it as well. Now stop being stubborn and let me help you"

Choosing to ignore further protests from the man Aramis set to work unbinding Porthos's ribs to check the extent of the damage, and if he was a little bit more forceful then he usually would have been, well then it was the big man's fault in the first place.

"Hmmm two ribs are definitely broken but there are a couple that are cracked that you'll need to be extra careful with. The rest appear fine just badly bruised"

"Told you so" Porthos mumbled darkly to his friend, though both his attitude and comment was once again ignored as the medic set to work creating a poultice to help with the bruises.

Whilst applying the poultice to Porthos's bruises Aramis couldn't help but see the guilt-ridden look in his beloved friend's eyes as he watched their young charge sleep

"Porthos" he started softly, waiting for the man to look at him before he continued "please don't blame yourself for this, you did everything you could and none of this is your fault" the begging tone in his brother's words did little to ease the guilt in his heart but Porthos softened his expression and sent his brother a small smile.

* * *

The moment was interrupted by the return of Athos, the older man sending a questioning look to the group's medic, who promptly waved him off assuring that their brother whilst being a stubborn mule who was going to be sore for a while was only sporting bruises, the occasional small cut and a couple of broken ribs.

Nodding in thanks Athos turned his inquisitive gaze onto Aramis, who in turn squirmed slightly and sent a questioning look of his own.

"Eat Aramis, then get some sleep before you pass out" Athos spoke sternly, his tone allowing no room for argument – not that Aramis didn't try to protest anyway

"I will wake you if D'Artangan changes but both you and Porthos need some sleep" Athos reasoned

Silence reigned for several moments as Aramis attempted to find a counter argument, huffing in frustration when he came up empty he instructed Athos to wake him in a couple of hours so he could rest before the medic devoured the food offered to him and made himself comfy on the floor – drifting off as soon as he closed his eyes.

Smiling both in amusement and fondness Athos finished his meal before resuming his place by his little brother's bedside, this time with a bottle of wine and a lighter heart then he'd had in days.


	16. Chapter 16

**Evening My Lovelies**

**We did it! This story reached 50 Followers! That made me happy dance a little :D **

**We're almost at the end of this story and this chapter is pretty much my attempt to draw out the story a little bit longer as I had so much fun writing it. There's only one chapter left after this one :( **

**But I have an idea for a new story that I hope you will all join me for when I start publishing it**

**As Always lots of love to those who follow/favourite/review You guys rock!**

**Enjoy**

**xxx**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

* * *

Chapter 16:

Sleep, it would seem was determined to elude the four brothers this night.

Aramis had used the reasoning that the medic in him would not allow him to rest for too long without checking on his patients.

As such he had slept solidly for around two hours before waking with a jolt and refusing to even acknowledge Athos – who was still watching over their youngest, until he had assured himself that the boy was indeed getting better and that the bullet wound still remained clear.

Sagging in relief it was only when Athos cleared his throat and pointed to the nest of blankets the medic had previously been cocooned in that Aramis remembered he was even there. Cheeks turning a light shade of pink in his embarrassment Aramis sent his brother a tired version of his usual charming smiling before returning to his cocoon – but not before doing a visual check over Porthos.

* * *

Athos found his sleep disturbed by the sickening sound of his little brother's ankle snapping and the boy screaming.

He found himself needing to constantly remind himself that the boy was alive, wounded and in pain maybe but alive nevertheless. Every time his eyes began to droop and close his brain replayed the scream, jolting him awake.

Unwilling to hear the screams any longer Athos resigned himself to getting little if any sleep this night and instead collected his weapons from where he had stashed them earlier when he first arrive at the room, resuming his seat by the boy's bedside, Athos propped his feet up on the bed – mindful of D'Artangan's wounded ankle, and set to work cleaning his arsenal.

Only being interrupted when a clearly shattered Aramis woke up and checked over the boy. Smirking in amusement Athos cleared his throat once he saw the medic had finished his task, frowning lightly when he noticed that he had startled the man Athos sighed and pointed to the spot where the medic had been sleeping.

The medic was by far the most exhausted out of all of them – barring of course those injured; he had worked tirelessly to save the boy's life, never taking a break until he was confident that the boy had taken a turn in the right direction. Athos may not be getting any sleep but he would do everything in his power to ensure that his treasured brothers did.

* * *

D'Artangan's sleep, or lack of it had been rather deceptive at first. The young Gascon had remained still and seemingly unconscious for most of the night, until Athos had noticed silent tears trailing down his cheeks. Whether it was because of the pain of his injuries, nightmares of what happened or simply a combination of the two Athos didn't know but he cursed his indifference to his protégés pain.

Taking the boy's uninjured hand into his own Athos began rubbing soothing circles, hoping that simple reassurance that he was not alone would be enough to calm the boy.

However it seemed to only reinforce whatever was plaguing him as D'Artangan soon began to whimper and mumble in his sleep. Athos was loathed to wake the boy when his body was desperately in need of rest but he knew that if he continued at this pace he would be forced to in case the lad caused himself further injury by pulling at his wounds.

Racking his brain for any ideas that might help soothe the wounded Gascon Athos was drawn into a memory from his childhood. He had been granted a rare day off from his studies and he and Thomas had taken full advantage of it.

Having spent the day out on the grounds of their estate in La Fèrè; climbing trees, running around and generally acting like children. It was a day of fun that had been brought quickly to an end when Thomas had fallen and hurt his arm. Unused to pain the young boy had much trouble sleeping that night, and it was only when Athos – or Oliver as he had been known at that time, had sat stroking his hair, humming softly to him that he had been able to drift off to sleep.

Smiling fondly at the memory Athos looked to the still whimpering Gascon, he reminded Athos enough of Thomas to make the older brother in him desperately want to soothe him and take away his pain. But the boy was also remarkably like him and so he had his doubts as to whether this idea would even work.

The decision was made for him however when D'Artangan let out a particularly heart-breaking cry and Athos's hand had instinctively gone to the boy's hair – repeating the action he had done for his Thomas all those years ago. _Looks like in this instance he's more like Thomas _Athos mused fondly as the Gascon had begun to calm almost instantly when Athos had started his ministrations.

Shifting to a more comfortable position Athos began to hum an old tune he had long forgotten the words to, his smile growing when the boy calmed completely and drifted back into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Porthos was practically famous in the garrison for his ability to fall, dead-to-the-world, asleep anywhere and anytime, however it was his sleep that was haunted the most this night.

Musketeers are well accustomed to nightmares, in fact many joke that it's a prerequisite to being officially one of them. Porthos was no exception to this rule, and whilst they didn't occur with such regularity as Athos's or in such clarity as Aramis's he still found them hounding his sleep on several occasions.

If he was being honest with himself Porthos was surprised at how much sleep he had managed before jerking awake from a violent nightmare of D'Artangan being tortured.

This first instance appeared to go unnoticed by his brothers as Aramis was busy checking over the boy and Athos was busy watching the tired medic.

Shaking the last remnants of the dream from his mind and focusing on the knowledge that the boy would be fine – it might take some time for him to be back in perfect health, but he would recover, Porthos closed his eyes, praying that this time there would be no dreams.

Unfortunately it seemed that his mind was determined to spite him and he once again jerked awake from a nightmare – though this time it was all of this brothers he had been forced to watch endure torture, and with no one knowing their location he had watched them succumb to the pain of their wounds and slowly die.

Porthos was confused this time when he awoke – not because of the dream; Aramis's soft snores from behind him had promptly reassured the larger man that it had all been a dream. It was the sound of soft humming he could hear that confused him – especially as he knew the only one who would still be awake was Athos and humming + Athos was an alien concept for the musketeer to get his tired brain around.

He dared not move to investigate in case the man caught him. Clearly this was a private moment for Athos and a presumably asleep D'Artangan. Smiling fondly at this act Porthos once again let his eyes close. Comforted in the knowledge that his brother was watching over them all, Porthos allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by the sound of snores and humming.


	17. Chapter 17

**Evening My Lovely Ever Loyal Readers **

**Well here we are this is the final chapter for this story.**

**It has been so much fun writing this and the lovely responses I got from all of you just made it 10x better so thank you for sticking around right to the end. **

**I have another story in the works at the moment, I should have the first chapter up by the end of the week and would love it if you would give that a read over as well.**

**For the last time for this story lots of love and thanks to all those who follow/favourite/review **

**Enjoy **

**xxx**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the musketeers.**

* * *

Chapter 17:

_Today's the day _Porthos thought to himself. He had promised the boy that they would talk in the morning, and low and behold it was now morning – or early afternoon.

Looking over at the still sleeping Gascon, Porthos couldn't help but groan – he had absolutely no desire to have this conversation, but that didn't mean he would deny his brother it. The Gascon had pushed his limits the night before to demand that they talk and so he had promised the lad.

Fervently hoping that he would had a couple of hours to collect himself before the boy would wake and instigate the conversation Porthos decided to get up and stretch his legs for a bit.

Untangling himself from Aramis – the man was a notoriously clingy sleeper and at some point during the night had managed to thoroughly entangled himself with the larger man, Porthos silently stepped over his drooling brother and with one final gaze to the wounded Gascon and the, presumably sleeping, Athos he left the room in search of fresh air and breakfast – or was it lunch? At this point he could care less so long as it was edible and delayed his conversation with D'Artangan for a bit longer.

* * *

"PORTHOS!"

At the sound of his name being shouted Porthos spun around, a small part of him noting that, despite nightmares, the sleep he had gotten had done wonders for his head.

"Laurent?" Porthos enquired to the approaching musketeer, in all the commotion of being kidnapped, tortured and then trying to save D'Artangan's life Porthos had completely forgotten to check on the young men who had initially travelled with them on their mission.

"I was so worried when we made it back and the Captain said you hadn't arrived yet. Are you okay? What about D'Artangan?" The young musketeer seemed oblivious to the fact he was rambling, though his apparent concern for himself and his brother had Porthos softening as he raised a hand to pause.

"Laurent, I'm fine. D'Artangan's in bad shape but was looking better when I left him. How about you and Gerard? Some of Corbin's men followed you as well"

Laurent visibly relaxed at hearing that D'Artangan was improving, he did not know the Gascon overly well but he would never forgive himself if their agreement to split up led to the boy dying, though he did scoff at the mention of Corbin's men.

"Weren't even a fraction of his men from what I've heard. Attacked us several hours after we split. Took a few nasty hits to the ribs and Gerard got a bad concussion after one of them tackled him off his horse, one of them managed to get in a lucky cut to his side that started to get infected. Doc says it's almost clear now though so he should be fine."

A knot of tension Porthos wasn't even aware he had uncoiled at this information. While it wasn't rare that he had missions with newly commissioned musketeers – Athos blatantly refuses to work with them unless there's no other option and Aramis spends the entire time trying to either scare them to death or impress them with his skills with the opposite gender, needless to say neither man would ever be the captain's first pick. It was rare that he had such an easy mission end up so horribly and the man had been questioning his decision to separate since the moment he gave the order.

"Go back to your friend" Porthos smiled at the young musketeer "I'll swing by when I get the chance, check up on 'im myself"

Receiving a beaming smile and jaunty wave from the musketeer Porthos resumed his mission to get his brother's breakfast.

* * *

It had taken him longer than he expected to simply get to the kitchens, let alone get the food. It seemed that every musketeer he passed wanted to check on him and get an update on D'Artangan.

Finally he returned to Athos's room, arms packed with food, and was met with a clearly exacerbated Aramis and a slightly amused Athos.

"There you are!" the medic chided as he took some of the food from his brother's arms, placing it on the table. "He hasn't stopped asking about you and I can't slap him he's wounded enough already" Porthos raised an eyebrow at this, turning his gaze to the injured Gascon in the bed with pink cheeks – though whether from his fever of embarrassment at being called out by Aramis Porthos didn't know, smiling he addressed his young friend "Sorry, couldn't walk two steps without someone trying to talk to me or ask bout you… Took me longer than I planned to get the food."

The four men ate their food in comfortable silence, each just happy with the others presence. Athos had helped D'Artangan with the broth Serge had prepared for him, much to the younger man's chagrin and his brother's amusement.

After they'd eaten Athos and Aramis made up a completely bogus excuse to leave the room for a while. Both Porthos and D'Artangan knew it was simply to give them the privacy while they talked things out and both were equally grateful for it.

* * *

"…Sooo" Porthos began hesitantly; he was a man of action not words and found himself completely out of his depth at the prospect of this conversation.

D'Artangan save him from having to come up with anything more than that one word when he spoke up, exhaustion and pain clearly evident in his tone "None of this is your fault, okay P'thos?"

"D'Artangan, Corbin only focused on you because of your connection to me so you'll have to forgive me if I don't believe that."

"Corbin was a monster" D'Artangan spat, his glare hardening at the mention of that man's name "He would have attacked regardless. It was pure chance that put us in his sights."

This exchange went back and forth for several minutes, neither man willing to accept the others point of view. Eventually D'Artangan had, had enough and summoning the strength needed, pushed himself up and with speed neither man were honestly expecting, slapped Porthos's face – effectively stunning the man mid rant.

Unfortunately for D'Artangan however, this burst of speed and strength left him panting in exhaustion and pain. Looking at his elder brother with pain-filled eyes he implored the larger man to listen to him.

"I don't blame you my friend and if this-" he indicated to his injuries "-is the cost of finally bringing and end to that vile man and keeping you out of his grip then it's a price I will gladly pay."

Stunned both from the slap and D'Artangan's speech Porthos found himself unable to respond, so the young man continued, "He hurt a lot of people Porthos and only held a grudge against you because you're an honorable man who refused to ignore the injustice before him. You are a good man my friend, one of the best I know actually and nothing Corbin could have ever done or said to me would have ever changed that fact."

Porthos's whole expression softened at that point and D'Artangan could see how much his words had meant to his friend, though he was simply glad to see some of the guilt vanish from his dear friend's eyes.

"Unless of course you let Athos drink all of our wine" D'Artangan jested.

Before Porthos could respond past a smile the door to the room entered and a cheery looking Aramis entered, followed by Athos who raised his signature eyebrow to his brothers "There's wine?"

This time Porthos couldn't stop the booming laugh that escaped him as he stood – ruffling D'Artangan's hair as he went, and walked over to his saddlebags before pulling out bottle Lady Helena had gifted them, what seemed like years ago now.

Settling themselves around D'Artangan's bedside they passed the bottle between them whilst engaging in lighthearted banter – all thoughts of the last several days gone from their minds as they simply reveled in their reunited family.

* * *

**THE END  
**


End file.
